


The Senator Affair

by ohmachete



Series: The Del Floria Affairs [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Rescue, Screenplay/Script Format, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:19:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmachete/pseuds/ohmachete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back in New York, the trio picks up an assignment left behind by a late U.N.C.L.E operative. but things aren't what they seem when their mark seems to always be one step ahead of them.<br/>-----------<br/>A screenplay format fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Picking up After Tenley

**Author's Note:**

> ***I am considering switching back to prose format for future affairs. This format is turning out to be more challenging and I have more feelings to share than I can. Let me know if you feel strongly either way!***

NEW YORK CITY, USA. LATE AUGUST 1963 

BROOKLYN NAVY YARD - MORNING 

The sun has barely scratched the sky. A murky gray light lurks over a developing crime scene hanging off the edge of the river bank. A team of CSI agents scour the rocks with flashlights while police idle by to keep public attentions at bay. A pale young man lies tossed among the rocks, glossy eyes pinned upwards. A flash of a camera lights him up before a sheet is ceremoniously folded over his head. A young blonde woman with a badge and camera slung around her neck rises to her feet. She nods a thanks to the medical examiner on duty before turning her way back onto the road. No one passes her a second glance as she ducks back under a strip of yellow police tape and parts her way through a gathering crowd. 

Down the street, she spares one glance over her shoulder before folding herself into a phone booth to make a call. 

MYSTERIOUS BLONDE WOMAN 

Hello, I'm calling for a G. Tenley. 

OPERATOR 

G. Tenley is not in. May I take a message? 

MYSTERIOUS BLONDE WOMAN 

Yes, tell him that our lunch has been cancelled. 

U.N.C.L.E HQ - AFTERNOON

A twelve story white stone building stands out from a blocks of red brick tucked alongside the East River in Manhattan. The ground floor is made up of a series of mundane shops: A corner bodega, Four-Five-Six Laundry, a barber shop, and a tailoring and dry cleaning shop by the name of Del Floria. 

Outside, people go about their day winding through the streets of Manhattan. Upstairs on the seventh floor, a blonde receptionist with an impressive beehive smiles charmingly with her ear pressed into a phone. She hums, marking down something on a notepad. 

WAVERLY 

\--A dozen or so white roses and our regards should do. Thank you, Wendy. And do send agent Solo in, he has postponed this meeting long enough.

ALEXANDER WAVERLY drops the phone back on its hook. He sits back, adjusting the glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as the door before him swings open. 

NAPOLEON SOLO enters, turning the heads of the ever present ILLYA KURYAKIN and GABY TELLER from their seats across Waverly's desk. 

WAVERLY 

My apologies, it's been quite the ruckus in the office this morning--Mr Solo, nice of you to join us.

Napoleon flashes a stock smile as he comes to settle a few steps behind Gaby and Illya's chairs. He tucks a folded piece of paper into his jacket pocket before paying Waverly any attentions. 

NAPOLEON 

( nods )

Sir.

GABY 

( turning forward in her seat )

What happened? 

WAVERLY 

One of our local agents, George Tenley, was found dead this morning. One of the first casualties of its kind for this agency, I'm afraid. By local authorities, his death is a suicide. But as you can imagine, we believe his position was compromised.

ILLYA 

To who? 

WAVERLY 

To that, we're not entirely sure, but we have a few ideas.

Waverly uplifts a manilla folder from a pile on his desk to slide across. Gaby is the first to reach it, opening it up to a short profile with a photocopy of a stately looking man on top. 

WAVERLY 

Tenley was investigating senator Jacob Javits on alleged connections to an international arms-dealing ring. He was getting rather close to Javits right before his accident, so we have every reason to believe he may have found something.

NAPOLEON 

Let me guess, you want us to pick up where he left off. 

WAVERLY 

Precisely, Mr Solo. If our suspicions are correct, Javits operation could very much be involved with the same circles as the Vinciguerras.

Illya has the folder now, he doesn't even look up from furrowing deeply in concentration. 

ILLYA 

So it is in all of our best interests. 

WAVERLY 

Very much so. And if there's been a leak, we need to know: who, how, and how deeply it traces back to this agency. Kuryakin and Miss Teller, you two will be looking into Javits. And Solo, I'll need you to look into Tenley's death.

ILLYA 

( stiffly )

Sir. 

NAPOLEON 

( warmly )

Sir. 

Both Illya and Napoleon turn to make their leave. Gaby is last to rise, prompting Waverly to lean forward in his seat to stop her. 

WAVERLY 

Miss Teller, a moment if you will. 

ON THE AVE 

Illya and Gaby emerge from the front doors of Del Floria. Illya adjusts the cap on his head as he attempts to integrate himself into the walking traffic down the street. He sticks out, quite literally, with Gaby engulfed by his height beside him. Her arms are folded, lips turned into a petulant frown. 

GABY 

( annoyed )

Why do I always have to play the wife? 

Illya keeps his eyes forward, attempting not to look disgruntled at the choice of topic. 

ILLYA 

( quietly )

When we work undercover, it is easier to communicate if we have reasons to be close. 

GABY 

( having no regard for her volume )

But we don't always have to be married. 

ILLYA 

( exasperated )

Fine. If you do not want to be married, we can choose different cover. 

Gaby stops at the street corner, her weight cocked on one hip as she swings a look at him. Her eyebrow raised. 

GABY 

You're being awfully defensive. 

Illya stops beside her, looking increasingly more troubled. His hands clench at his sides. 

ILLYA 

I do not know what you are talking about. 

GABY 

You could just say it, you know. 

ILLYA 

( finally, he looks to her )

What? 

GABY 

( shrugs )

That you like it. 

The light turns green. Illya looks about distractedly before deciding to cross. Gaby follows, eyes tethered to him while he flusters. 

ILLYA 

It is.......an effective cover. We work well together like this. 

Gaby hums agreeably, her arms fold as she falls back in step beside him. 

GABY 

I guess you could say that. 

Illya powers ahead to stop her, his hand raised tentatively as if imposing a barrier. His hardened frown softening. 

ILLYA 

( earnest )

If you really do not want to, we can change it. 

Gaby's chin tilts upward, considering his offer a moment. 

GABY 

I want to be the diplomat. 

She looks him up and down, garnering his assets before stepping beside him to continue walking. 

GABY 

You can be the trophy husband. 

Illya turns, clearly at a loss of how to function in response. After a beat, he follows her, catching up in quick long strides. 

ILLYA 

( blubbering )

If..that is what you want. 

GABY 

( smiles at him innocently )

I think it'll suit both of us. I get to schmooze, you stand around and look pretty. 

ILLYA 

( correcting )

You will get to schmooze, and I will look for evidence. 

Gaby rolls to a stop at a small magazine stand, she begins to systematically poke through the selection with Illya standing awkwardly at her back. 

GABY 

( lightly )

Doesn't sound like a bad plan. 

ILLYA 

Javits will be at a gala tonight, not much time to prepare. 

GABY 

( plucking through an issue of Harper's Bazaar )

We have hq at our disposal, I'm sure it won't be too difficult. 

ILLYA 

( pragmatic )

I mean dress for miss diplomat. 

Gaby's eyebrows raise, looking from her magazine to address him with a dry look. 

GABY 

Where on earth am I going to find a ballgown last minute in New York City? 

BERGDORF GOODMAN 

On the upper floors of a chic department store two attendants roll a clothing rack into a secluded room. A half glass of bubbly champagne is refilled at Napoleon's elbow as he looks up from his sunken stature in a regal quilted velvet sofa. A magazine lies open in his lap, to which he returns his attentions to after noding a kind thank you to the sales associate. 

NAPOLEON 

( boredly, flipping a page )

I'm waiting to be dazzled. 

Before Napoleon lies a raised white marble catwalk, skirted with three curtained dressing rooms. The middle curtain crumples slightly, a hiss seeping out from underneath. 

GABY 

( grumbling from behind the curtain )

I want to see you try figuring some of these dresses out in less than five minutes. 

The curtain SCREECHES across the rail as Gaby emerges. Her dressed gathered in her hands as she carefully carries herself to the edge. Her head tilts down at him expectantly, arms splaying out to show off a full length cream colored gown, pleated and draped a'la Cleopatra inspired. A baby pink train with a lime green trim trickles over one shoulder, swallowing her arm entirely. 

GABY 

( drops hands )

I feel like a Greek statue. 

Napoleon's eyebrows raise, frozen a moment as he takes it all in. 

NAPOLEON 

( sighing inwardly, he waves her to go back )

You look like one that's been vandalized. Who let you wear baby pink and green? I feel like Easter has abused me. 

Gaby rolls her eyes, swerving on her heel to waddle back into the dressing room. When she emerges again, it's in a sleek black cocktail dress that's fitted to the knee. Three cutouts angle at her waist, trimmed with white to make a small modest bow in the front. She smiles, pleased with herself as she gives it a spin for him. 

Napoleon's head tips to the side as she does, again hesitated with his words until she finishes. His hand raises to grace her with a well made point. 

NAPOLEON 

Well, _I_ would pick you out of a crowd. It doesn't say "diplomat's wife," does it. Maybe "diplomat's mistress". We could change your cover. 

A frown surfaces on her face. Her gaze trails down herself then to the mirror at her side. She's still considering it for herself. 

GABY 

( casually )

I'm not the diplomat's wife, I'm the diplomat. And I'd wear this. 

NAPOLEON 

( spins his finger for her to go back )

Let's try not to give _foreign affairs_ a whole new meaning. Less cocktail, more gala. 

Gaby puffs a sigh from her cheeks and stomps back into the changing room. She emerges again wearing a deep auburn colored gown, pleated into a woven pattern across the bust and braided into one strap over her left shoulder. She flows when she walks, adjusting the train once she stops at the edge of the stage. 

GABY 

( smoothly )

Gala enough yet? 

Napoleon closes his magazine with a pleased smile, he raises to his feet to praise her with open hands. 

NAPOLEON 

_Bellisima_. It's classic, I like it. What do you think? Is red too predictable for Peril?

Gaby's smile fools herself, she seems to bite it down as she turns her attentions to catch the back of her dress in the mirror. 

GABY 

( twisting distractedly )

Only if you don't make any jokes about it. 

Napoleon's mouth snaps shut, his hand tucks into his pocket as he considers abiding her request. 

NAPOLEON 

( jokingly )

You would look just as good in blue. 

GABY 

( scoffs )

Careful, he might be listening. Last thing we need is to return to find him being sausage. 

Napoleon continues to look at her, scrunched with confusion. Gaby steps down the stage to a row of shoes laid out in her size, she rifles through them before picking a pair to put on. 

NAPOLEON 

( slowly )

I...would hope not. I honestly wouldn't want to know where he could have hidden one if I missed it. 

Self-consciously, he looks down, a hand patting his breast pocket for a bug. Gaby stands carefully, lifting the train of her dress an inch to test the heels. 

GABY 

He should be busy getting the equipment ready. Anywhere else we need to go? 

After taking a turn in the mirror, Gaby begins to ease the heels off her feet. Napoleon motions to an associate standing by the door to wrap things up. 

NAPOLEON 

Not until tonight. 

GABY 

( plopping the shoes into his hands )

Good, because I'm starving. 

ON THE AVE 

Traffic eases by in hazardous increments. After a couple of waves, Napoleon flags down a cab to load up into. 

NAPOLEON 

( unbuttoning his jacket to sit )

I know a place that will fry a plate of bacon and eggs so greasy it's served with a cardiologist's business card. 

GABY 

( tugging the door shut behind her )

Is it one of those restaurants like in The Blob? 

Napoleon angles her a look. 

NAPOLEON 

I guess the entirety of the eat at Joe's phenomenon passed you by. 

Gaby meets his look innocently as she settles back into her seat, garment bags shoved between them. 

GABY 

( shrugs )

The SED probably didn't want us to see what a capitalist pig Joe was. 

The cab driver turns his head to slate a glare at Gaby, who freezes in surprise. Napoleon looks between the two of them. 

NAPOLEON 

( quietly )

Careful. 

( meets the look of a very disgruntled taxi driver )

It's always the innocent looking ones with the dark senses of humor. 

GABY 

( feigns a laugh )

Some of the things you hear, you just have to laugh about it. What can I say? 

JOE'S DINER 

Napoleon and Gaby step into a narrow restaurant buzzing with chatter. Napoleon meets the look of a busy waitress, following her direction to a two seated booth against the wall. 

NAPOLEON 

( glancing down to gaby before he moves )

You'll have to take your foot out first before you eat. 

Gaby meets his look with a tense glance, following him across the restaurant to sit. 

GABY 

You don't have to tell me twice. 

She deposits her bags into the seat next to her, plucking up the laminated menu to glance across. 

GABY 

Did you find anything at Tenley's apartment? 

NAPOLEON 

( blandly )

It was clean, too clean if you ask me. 

A waitress in a mint uniform appears at their table, the both of them glance up in tandem. They both give their orders to send her back off again. 

GABY 

( leaning on the table )

So what are you going to do? 

NAPOLEON 

( watches the waitress across the room fill their coffee order )

Keep an eye on you two, of course. I doubt whoever had the guy whacked will be lowering their guard any time soon. 

Gaby follows his gaze, her eyes rolling back to him once she's solved the mystery. 

GABY 

( lightly annoyed )

I'd prefer it if I didn't end up getting dumped in a river. 

NAPOLEON 

( glances back to her with a smarmy smile )

I'm sure even without me, Peril will be there to snarl when a man so much as looks at you wrong. You have nothing to worry about.

Two mugs of coffee get deposited onto their table, Gaby dashes hers with cream before warming her hands with the mug at the edge of the table. 

GABY 

( watches the waitress go again )

Funny. I'm less worried about that than I am to how damn elusive he's been since we got here. You know he never checked into his hotel room.

NAPOLEON 

( dumping sugar packets into his coffee )

Oh, I see. You've already tried. 

Her head snaps back to him, shuffling in her seat as if she's been caught doing something she shouldn't. 

GABY 

( lifts her mug to blow on it and take a sip )

It's weird, isn't it? Are you not the least bit curious? 

NAPOLEON 

( sips his drink casually )

Maybe he's married. 

Gaby nearly does a spittake, crumpling into a coughing fit behind a raised hand. Napoleon lowers his cup with a mixed look of amusement and concern. 

NAPOLEON 

( discrediting )

He's not married, don't torture yourself. 

A chair DRAGS itself noisily across from them, Illya drops into it even though he is clearly too large for it. Gaby looks up at him in a brief look of horror, still sputtering from her episode. 

ILLYA 

( lightly )

What? You already forgot about our engagement? 

( to napoleon )

Inside the hem of your jacket. 

Napoleon immediately sets his cup down to start patting his jacket down. 

GABY 

( recovered )

Nice of you to show up. 

The waitress crosses by them to give Illya a sour look before turning a new mug over to fill him a cup of coffee. 

ILLYA 

( nods a kind smile to the waitress before she goes )

Equipment and papers are ready. Reservation in hotel room changed for the diplomat and her husband. 

Napoleon looks up from his search, visibly annoyed but it wipes itself off his face once he recovers the bug from his jacket. 

NAPOLEON 

( inspecting the bug )

I hope you upgraded the ride. Miss ambassador is wearing too much French silk to risk getting wound up in the wheels of a motorbike. 

ILLYA 

( sets his cup down )

Of course not, we will take a cab. 

Napoleon defiantly drops the bug in Illya's mug, who frowns as he tips the cup to watch it CLINK to the bottom. 

NAPOLEON 

Is it yours? The bike? It's registered in New York under another name. Hasn't changed hands for several years. 

Gaby reaches across the table to take the bugged cup of coffee and switch it out for hers. 

ILLYA 

( admittedly )

It is mine. 

GABY 

( surprised )

You lived in New York? 

NAPOLEON 

( with a turn of his hand )

Come on, out with it.

Illya's glance flips between the two of them and gives a small nod. 

ILLYA 

Five years ago, yes. Details are....classified.

GABY 

Cutting it close, isn't it? 

NAPOLEON 

( shrugs )

It's a big city, and he's fairly unremarkable. 

GABY 

It's just surprising is all. 

She leans forward to switch out their coffees. Napoleon immediately switches them back. She tests him with a look. 

NAPOLEON 

I'm sure the money you paid in rent all this time could have probably fed a village. 

ILLYA 

( glares at him )

Is none of your concern that is for sure, Cowboy. 

GABY 

Can you both not? 

ILLYA 

( bordering defensive )

I do not see why this is important. 

NAPOLEON 

( casually )

Important? No, but who isn't interested to hear what a KGB agent was doing in New York. Let me guess, Little Odessa? 

ILLYA 

( glares at him )

It. Does not. Matter. 

GABY 

( leans forward to hiss at both of them )

_Enough._

Napoleon, entirely unaffected by the petulance of his partner, looks between the both of them before making his decision. He finishes his coffee and sets the mug down in the center of the table. 

NAPOLEON 

Gaby's got a point. It's been nice, but I believe we have a gala to crash.

( excuses himself from the table and buttons his jacket back up )

See you both tonight. 





	2. The Gala

THE STANLEY 

Valets shuffle between slick black cars as debonairs and their dates pile into a brightly decorated Manhattan ballroom. Boys in stiff maroon hats extract summer coats and shawls from a line of women. Gaby glances across the room to Illya, who adjusts a pair of thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. His hands fit neatly behind his back, turning to admire a painting held up on the other end of the room. 

ILLYA 

Do you copy, Cowboy? 

ON THE AVE - NIGHT 

A navigator sits parked down the street hidden among many others. Napoleon's finger taps the steering wheel as a couple passes by his window. He looks down at the backpack full of equipment, lights flickering with the passing static coming through the radio. 

NAPOLEON 

( adjusting a dial )

Loud and clear. Have you made contact?

THE STANLEY 

ILLYA 

( tight lipped )

We have only just arrived. I will keep the radio contact open. 

NAPOLEON 

( crackles through a small speaker in the glasses )

Thank you, I'm sure your attempts at schmoozing will provide me all the entertainment I need. 

Illya throws a glance over his shoulder, brow furrowed at no one in particular. 

ILLYA 

( turning back )

No flirting with the valet while you are out there, remember you're still on the job. 

NAPOLEON 

If I were a less modest man, I'd say you sound jealous. 

Illya's eyes roll, his weight dipping back for him to turn and nearly knock into Gaby. He sways back, looking a little disgruntled. 

GABY 

Are we ready? 

She takes his arm with hers, turning him into the ballroom. 

ILLYA 

Yes, but the American is bored already. 

Gaby hums, throwing a look out the open door as they pass. The grand ballroom is separated between tables and dancing bodies gliding from one end of the floor to the other. A live band plucks away at the corner stage, filling the crowded air with a twangy tune. 

GABY 

A little suffering won't hurt him. 

( she drifts from him, turning half way to tug him towards dancing couples )

How about we dance?

Illya scans the crowd over her head for Javits. 

ILLYA 

( distracted )

I still don-- 

GABY 

( cutting him off )

No excuses. You're my husband, and my husband will dance with me at least once tonight. Don't let this dress be in vain. 

She gives him a rough tug, and despite being twice her size he ripples after her like a tether. She guides him through gliding couples before turning and placing his hand on her hip and taking up the other one to hold. 

GABY 

( musing )

Just follow my lead and keep your chin up. 

She moves forward, forcing him to step back. Slowly, she corrals him into some semblance of a dance, although he doesn't look too sure of it. 

ILLYA 

( looking between them )

If I remember correctly, you do not play nice when we dance. 

GABY 

( smiles up at him )

If I remember correctly, you didn't seem to mind all too much. 

She holds his gaze a moment before he crumbles beneath it, turning his attention back outward to the crowd. 

ILLYA 

( quietly )

This is not good place for that sort of thing. 

GABY 

( eyes rolling )

This is work, remember? 

NAPOLEON 

( coming back in through the radio )

Are you blowing it? It sounds like you're blowing it. 

Illya's expression immediately sours, to Gaby's surprise. She turns to see where his gaze has fallen. Turning back, she tugs him into a turn. 

ILLYA 

( gritted teeth )

Not blowing it. 

NAPOLEON 

Is there enough room for Jesus between you? If so, kick him out. 

ILLYA 

( hissing )

I am closing the radio right now. 

GABY 

What is he saying? 

NAPOLEON 

Keep it open. I'll behave. 

Gaby continues to look up at him expectantly until he meets it again. To her surprise, his hand on her back draws her closer. 

ILLYA 

( simmering back to normal )

Is...nothing. I have yet to see the mark. 

Gaby looks around to see a few of the couples glancing their way. She moves in to rub his shoulder in effort to look more affectionate. 

GABY 

Patience, dear. 

Illya's head turns to scan the crowds again, she looks the other way to do the same. 

ILLYA 

Where did you learn to dance? 

GABY 

Staatsoper Unter den Linden, among other places.

ILLYA 

( smiling to himself )

I should take you to see Russian ballet one day. No one is better at ballet than the Russians. 

Gaby blinks, seeming to have lost track. A beat of silence falls as she seems to recall a close memory. 

GABY 

( dryly )

How could I forget? 

NAPOLEON 

( back over the radio )

Target entering at six o' clock. 

Illya's head turns as if on a gear head. Javits has entered the room with his wife on his arm. The two of them, along with two men clearly on security detail, make way to a reserved table across the room. 

ILLYA 

He is here. 

They stop their dance. Gaby's hand slides down to rest on Illya's chest, begging his attention. He looks down, looking softened by her touch. 

GABY 

Dear, I believe I left my compact in my coat. Can you retrieve it for me? 

ON THE AVE 

Back in the car, Napoleon has an array of Tenley's paperwork laid out. He rifles through an evidence bag of personal affects, comin up with a wristwatch. Curiously, he plucks a tool from his bag to pry it open. In the middle of the gears lies a small disc. 

NAPOLEON 

( lifting the bug up )

Uh-oh, someone was being naughty. 

THE STANLEY 

Gaby laughs demurely behind her hand as she floats among a circle of associates, Javits included. Illya keeps an eye on her as he adjusts his glasses. 

ILLYA 

( quietly )

What is it? 

NAPOLEON 

Tenley was being monitored. It's not American. 

A troubled look grows on Illya's face. He makes a show of patting his pockets down to cover up his disgruntled expression. 

ILLYA 

Describe it to me. 

ON THE AVE 

Napoleon turns around the little disc before dropping it in the palm of his hand. 

NAPOLEON 

It's compact, round. Like a coin cell battery. Is there anyone watching you right now? 

THE STANLEY 

Illya turns again, following a few other guests into the ballroom. He adjusts the jacket of his suit, scanning around for his wife in the crowd. To his left, near the windows, two men stand alone. He follows their gaze to Gaby sitting at a table with Javits himself. 

ILLYA 

Two men, but they could be security. 

NAPOLEON 

Looks like it's up to me to pull you out of the fire again. 

Illya moves, pardoning his way through couples and giggling women up until he has Gaby at arms reach. 

ILLYA 

There is no fire yet. 

NAPOLEON 

( sighs )

There's always fire with you, Peril, it's only a matter of time. 

ILLYA 

( taking Gaby's arm gently to excuse her from her conversation )

Do not think you are excluded. 

GABY 

Pardon me 

( she turns, guiding him away from Javits' table )

What's going on? 

Illya moves without question, his hand slides down to gather hers. She follows the turn of his head, finding the two men speaking to one another across the room. They briefly make eye contact before Illya begins parting the crowd with her in tow. 

ILLYA 

Cowboy found a bug. Must have taken the kitchen exit. Come. 

Gaby clicks hurriedly after him into the service hallway, not so much looking behind her. The two men across the room begin to move, cutting alongside the walls to avoid detection. As they pass through the main entry to the ballroom, Napoleon barrels right into them. 

NAPOLEON 

( patting one man down nervously )

Pardon me, is this the Goldman wedding?

ON THE AVE 

A car rolls up to the mouth of an alleyway as Napoleon emerges from a service door with a quickened pace. He slips comfortably into the back seat, meeting Illya's gaze in the side mirror before Gaby steers them back into traffic. 

NAPOLEON 

( sinks into his seat )

They catch on fast. 

GABY 

We can't go back to the hotel. If they knew Tenley's location, the rest of the safe houses could be compromised. 

Illya rubs his chin a moment, sunken into a thought. 

ILLYA 

I have a place we can go for the night. Call Waverly in the morning. 

NAPOLEON 

( turning slightly to look over his shoulder )

Did he give you anything? 

GABY 

Nothing. He either knew we would follow up after Tenely or he's innocent. 

NAPOLEON 

( tuts in displeasure )

What a waste. Either way, I think a "you're welcome" is in order. I did get my hands on Ronnie and Reggie. By this time tomorrow we'll know who they go home to at night. 

ILLYA 

( turning over his shoulder )

The bug. Did you bring it? 

Napoleon glances down at himself before procuring the bug to drop into Illya's hand. Illya falls back into his seat to inspect the small metal disk. 

Gaby turns a corner, head craning upward to try and decipher contents of the rear-view mirror. 

GABY 

Any sign of them? 

Napoleon leans forward to reach into the foot well, he sets a bag in his lap and begins screwing a silencer onto the barrel of his gun. 

NAPOLEON 

Nothing to be concerned over. Just keep driving. 

Gaby does a double take over her shoulder to see just what he's up to. 

GABY 

( scrutinizing )

Roll down the window at least. 

NAPOLEON 

( meets her glare casually )

Since you asked nicely. 

Illya looks up from his inspecting to catch a rail sign up ahead as Napoleon rolls down the window at his side to lean out of. 

ILLYA 

Cowboy, do not be stupid. 

Just as the words fall out of his mouth, Napoleon fires three rounds at a car tailing them further down the road. The car swerves haphazardly into oncoming traffic, spurning a cacophony of HONKING. A man leans out from the passenger to return fire just as he slips back inside. 

Gaby flinches as she hears bullets ricochet off the bumper. She shoots Napoleon an offended glare, who himself has been hunching. He leans forward to rest his arms on both of their seats to point up ahead. 

NAPOLEON 

Turn left ahead and go down the ramp. 

Without question, Gaby takes a hard turn down the ramp as directed. In the distance, the long WAIL of a train horn echoes back at them. 

ILLYA 

This is not smart id-- 

NAPOLEON 

( cutting him off )

\--It's fine, I've timed it. Take a right here.

The car rocks as Gaby drifts the car to the right just in time to avoid two more shots into the air. The car rattles as the tires find a pair of railroad tracks that veer into a dim lit tunnel up ahead. 

GABY 

( snarls )

Those are railroad tracks. I swear to god if you make me crash another-- 

The mirror to her right SHATTERS sharply with oncoming gunfire. Illya reaches for his gun, snapping around to shoot back at the pursuing car. 

ILLYA 

( urgently )

\--It will not work! 

Napoleon looks back, bereft at the loss of their side mirror. 

NAPOLEON 

( calmly )

I'm going to need a little more optimism from both of you. 

The air horn WAILS again, so loud it's deafening over them. 

GABY 

( gritted )

Solo-- 

As the tunnel evens out its turn, they are greeted with the bright lights of an oncoming train cruising through the open yard en-route to their tunnel. It is approaching almost just as quickly as they are exiting. 

GABY 

( yelling over the horn )

_Napoleon!_

Their back window splinters as the headlights from their pursuit car trails after them. Gaby's knuckles grip onto the wheel, looking on with a simmering rage. 

NAPOLEON 

( touches her shoulder )

I'd go _just_ a little faster. 

A growl purrs in her throat as her foot kicks the gas pedal just a bit further. The horn SCREAMS at them as they charge head on towards the train. And just as they are about to collide, Gaby turns the car to buckle through the gap between the end of the tunnel and the oncoming train. The entire car shudders as they roll off the tracks and into loose gravel. The train surges into the tunnel behind them as they rockily navigate back to even ground. 

GABY 

( whistles )

Illya blows out a tightly withheld sigh, dropping his gun-wielded hand into his lap. Napoleon looks equally as relieved, turning back to sit in his seat. 

NAPOLEON 

( cheerfully )

See? Nothing to worry about. Now, Peril? Lead the way. 

Gaby and Illya exchange a glare. 

LITTLE ODESSA 

Their beaten up car stops in front of a building in a stale looking neighborhood beside the river. The streets are empty, weeds sprout from the sidewalks under a buzzing street lamp. Napoleon gives it a critical glance as he nudges the car door shut. 

NAPOLEON 

_Really?_

Illya and Gaby emerge from their sides of the vehicle. Gaby hikes up the train of her dress as she rounds the side of the car. Her eyes are trained down the road, alert for any car that might have picked up on their trail. Illya slings the radio equipment over his shoulder as he tests the door shut, shooting Napoleon an unappreciative look. 

ILLYA 

If I don't remember wrong, you also have an apartment here. 

NAPOLEON 

( sighs )

Well I can see where I'm unwelcome. 

Gaby's hand finds the bulk of his arm, giving him a turning push towards the door. 

ILLYA'S SAFEHOUSE 

Illya's hand scrapes the side of the wall until a dingy yellowed overhead light flickers on. He reveals a stale barren one bedroom apartment. A pile of newspapers sit in one corner beside a chair next to the window. The floorboards creak as Gaby and Napoleon filter in after him, the two of them hover in the entry. Illya sets the radio equipment down on the counter before drifting off down the hallway into the open bedroom. From where the two of them stand, all that's in there is a sunken wire frame bed and a row of drawers. 

NAPOLEON 

( masking his offense )

This is the best Russia can do? 

GABY 

( hesitant )

It's....nice. 

Illya emerges again, stopping to gauge Napoleon's disapproval with a blase raise of his eyebrows. 

ILLYA 

Don't cowboys usually sleep outside? 

Napoleon smiles in a way that might be a cringe. He exhales the world's longest sigh, briskly ignored by the Russian as he turns to set a fire up in the wood burning stove nestled in the back of the kitchen. 

NAPOLEON 

Peril, I've been in foxholes that had better living conditions than this. 

ILLYA 

( bickering )

You can go if you are so offended. 

GABY 

( whines as she takes a seat )

Both of you don't be so dramatic. 

Illya emerges from the kitchen to find Gaby sunken into the only chair and Napoleon having not budged an inch away from the door. He looks between the both of them before gesturing awkwardly and moving on. 

ILLYA 

Make yourself comfortable. No commentary. 

Their heads both turn as he crosses back into his bedroom and closes the door. After a moment, Napoleon treads across the threshold into the kitchen. Warily, he opens a cupboard to find it empty. 

NAPOLEON 

( in passing )

At least I know what to get him for Christmas. Literally anything. 

Gaby eases the shoes off her feet tiredly. She rises to join him in the kitchen where he's found half a bottle of vodka to treat himself to. Without asking, she takes his glass to sip on. 

GABY 

How much longer before you get it out of your system? 

Napoleon meets her with a brief tested look and pulls another two glasses to fill. 

NAPOLEON 

I'm done. 

The door swings open down the hall, urging the two of them to turn around to watch Illya mill about. The pipes creak and groan when he enters the bathroom, emerging as he sheds his button up shirt and takes the time to neatly fold it at the edge of his bed. 

Napoleon and Gaby cram themselves into the doorway, glasses hovering in their hands nearly forgotten. 

NAPOLEON 

( thoughtfully )

Interesting isn't it, seeing the great Red Peril in his semi-natural habitat?

Illya moves around, tugging off his undershirt in one fell swoop and adding it to the collection of clothes he's reserved off to the side of his suitcase. 

GABY 

( distracted )

...Yes, it is quite. Interesting. 

They both remain statute across the apartment. Napoleon's chin tilts just so as Illya turns, absent to their company, back into the bathroom and closes the door. 

GABY 

( swallows )

So...I suppose we could all fit the bed. 

Her head snaps back to look up at Napoleon, who now is staring at an empty doorway. 

NAPOLEON 

( distantly )

I think you may be right. 

The bathroom door creaks open again as Illya leans out, snapping their heads back to his attention in unison. 

ILLYA 

( pointing behind them )

It will get colder in the night, best to keep fire going. 

Gaby nods briefly as he withdraws and closes the door again. Napoleon looks down distractedly at his drink while she hungrily swallows the contents of her glass. 

GABY 

( hoarse )

I'm going to find...something else to wear. 

Napoleon frowns into his glass, absent of any commentary as Gaby leaves him to his devices to venture into the bedroom. 

When she emerges, she's wearing a buttoned up sleeping shirt tucked into an old night robe. Her legs, knobby and bare, make it look like she's nearly drowning in them. Napoleon is plucking through a few old books abandoned on a dusty shelf with minimal interest. The bottle of vodka has ended up on an end table, nearly emptied over the small coarse of time. 

GABY 

( arms folding )

What are you doing? 

NAPOLEON 

( stopping to look over her mid-sentence )

A little...light reading. 

She moves across from him to drape herself back into the chair, arm caressed over the top of it as she glances around the room. Her foot kicks idly over the edge. 

GABY 

I have to say, it's not bad. Actually, there's a charm to it. 

Napoleon raises an eyebrow at her, snapping the book shut as Illya emerges from the bathroom again toweling his golden hair. Napoleon angles a glance up at him before trailing back to her. 

NAPOLEON 

( curiously )

For who? 

She meets his look with one that begs not to be tested. He smiles, almost too knowingly, before turning to disappear into the kitchen. 

Illya emerges, still clad in towel, drifting to the side table to take his portioned glass of vodka. Gaby returns her attention to him, gaze flickering down to the towel and back up again. 

GABY 

What's wrong with your radio? 

They both look over to the radio set on top of one of the newspaper stacks, wires sprouting out from one side. 

ILLYA 

I needed to disturb a signal. Was many years ago. 

NAPOLEON 

( passing through with a device held up in his hand)

Is it because the reception in here is archaic? How could you track anything in here?

He passes into the bedroom before either of them can respond. 

GABY 

Ah.

( her hand drops from her chin, she turns to watch him standing there like a damp Adonis promoting vodka )

Are you just going to stand there all night in a towel? Not that I mind. 

Illya looks down at her, confused. His chin dips as he looks down at himself. 

ILLYA 

( oblivious )

No--Something wrong with my towel? 

Gaby shakes her head, pulling herself to her feet. 

GABY 

( fretting her shirt down )

No. No.....It's a nice towel. 

ILLYA 

The shirt looks better on you than it ever did on me. 

Her lips curve upward agreeably as she takes a look at herself. 

GABY 

( tilting her chin back up at him )

It's very comfortable, I figured you wouldn't mind. 

As Illya looks up, he suddenly becomes very aware of how close they're standing to one another. 

ILLYA 

( quiet )

No. 

Gaby doesn't waver, her eyebrow climbs curiously as she gauges his expression. Testing, she steps forward into his space. 

GABY 

Are you just going to stand there? You look cold. 

Illya blinks as if stirring from a trance, he looks down between them at the shrinking space. The glass curved into the crook of his arm tips with his acknowledgement. 

ILLYA 

The drink keeps me warm. 

And as if to demonstrate, he takes a thick gulp of vodka. 

GABY 

( voice dropping quietly )

You know, there are a few other ways that could keep you warm. 

She reaches across to take his glass from him, which he relinquishes without a fight. 

ILLYA 

( breathless )

Yes... 

The floorboards CREAK under the tips of her toes as she rises, fingers clambering up his chest to drag him down by the neck. He bows to her, their breaths grow close enough to mingle. 

GABY 

( whispering )

He'll be back soon. 

NAPOLEON 

Oh, don't let me interrupt. 

The two of them snap rigidly back, parting to reveal Napoleon lounged against the mouth of the hallway as if he'd been there to spectate the whole debacle. Gaby immediately searching the bottom of the glass in her hand with the utmost curiosity. Illya seethes out a breath, nostrils flared. Every inch of him tenses up in effort not to let his anger skin Napoleon alive. 

GABY 

( exasperated )

It's a little too late for that, don't you think? 

Napoleon shrugs his arms outward, thumb pinned in the middle of a book written in Russian. 

NAPOLEON 

( innocently )

Was that not my cue? I can go back to reading your communist manifesto. It's a little dry. 

Gaby sets the glass down, sighing in the face of Napoleon's petulance as she curves around him to take over the bathroom. Once the door snaps shut, Illya glares across the room at the other man. 

ILLYA 

( growls )

Must everything always revolve around you, Cowboy? Five minutes alone proved too much to handle? 

NAPOLEON 

( smiles cheekily )

Infatuation is a good look for you. You almost seem human. 

Illya bounds up to him, Napoleon barely leaning back from the obtuse invasion of space. 

ILLYA 

( narrows eyes )

You did not answer my question. Or was there no need to confirm what we all already know? 

Gaby peers out from behind Napoleon, her hands find her hips to glower at the both of them at the other end of the hallway. 

GABY 

Will you two stop bickering and come to bed? 

Napoleon holds Illya's gaze, a smile creeping slowly across his lips. 

NAPOLEON 

How can I say no to an invitation like that? Unless you're still intent on knowing how I handle myself. 

He wriggles his eyebrows, turning on heel to follow Gaby into the bedroom. Illya's glare boils down to a frown before moving to snag a folded pile of clothes and disappearing to change. 

Meanwhile, Gaby is staking her claim on the bed. There is only one pillow, to which she fluffs to set in place. Napoleon neatly folds his suit jacket and removes his tie, making a pile on the cleanest surface he can find for them. Gaby turns to shoot a dirty look his way, crossing the side of the bed to hang up the night robe. 

NAPOLEON 

( toeing carefully out of each shoe )

I don't know what you're giving me a look for. You're the honeymooners. Shouldn't I tell you to behave? 

GABY 

( snorts )

Either you take the chair in the living room or you put a sock in it, honestly. 

Illya eases into the bedroom, dressed in the matching bottoms to Gaby's sleeping top. He leaves the door half cropped, following Gaby into bed as Napoleon sinks down on the other side. 

ILLYA 

It is fine. As long as Cowboy behaves. 

Gaby remains upright as both men clamber under the sheets on either side of her. The mattress CREAKS and GROANS with every micro movement. Gaby settles down between them, dodging arms and Illya's obtrusive elbow as he lies stiff as a board with his hands plastered at his stomach. 

NAPOLEON 

( blinks at the ceiling )

This is cozy. 

Gaby cringes, curving herself into an 'S' shape to avoid getting prodded by either of them. 

GABY 

( awkwardly )

Cozy is a word. 

Napoleon looks down at their feet, shuffling his arm upward over their heads as he looks down to Gaby. 

NAPOLEON 

Do you mind terribly? 

Gaby's head tips upward to look at him. 

GABY 

Not at all. 

Her head lifts enough for Napoleon to turn on his side, arm slipping beneath her neck to drape across her shoulders. She settles into it, turning onto her side as well in some semblance of comfort. 

ILLYA 

( eyes clenched shut )

Are you going to talk through the whole night? 

NAPOLEON 

( exhales softly )

Goodnight, Peril. 

GABY 

Goodnight. 

ILLYA 

Night. 

A beat passes. A stray dog out the window howls in the distance as the three of them lie stagnant in the night. 

NAPOLEON 

( mumbling softly )

Don't do anything I wouldn't. 

Illya's eyes pop open, turning to look at the both of them. He shuffles onto his side only to wrap his arms around Gaby's waist, who squints sleepily down at him in almost an offended manner. She sucks in a breath as he pulls her close, hands finding his arms almost to stop him. 

GABY 

( hissing )

Why are your hands always so cold? 

Illya's arms wrap tightly around her. Napoleon's head blearily lifts to glance at the both of them before dropping down again into a slumber-like state. 

ILLYA 

( whispering )

Then warm them. 

Gaby's eyes open again, only catching the crown of his hair. She watches him silently a moment before her hands shift to grab his and creep them upward under her shirt. They stays still a moment before creeping comfortably upward to rest along her back. Her fingers come to rest in his hair, teasing it softly until she too falls asleep.



	3. There's a Leak

ILLYA'S SAFEHOUSE - MORNING

The sun reaches in through the curtains, splaying the bed with narrow strips of light. The three of them lie together, entangled throughout the night. Gaby is the first to wake, eyes blinking open slowly. Carefully, she pulls herself out from under Napoleon's arm and withdraws her legs from between Illya's. She sits up, hair a matted mess. Illya's strong arm still loosely locked around her waist, she fits a finger underneath it to rest down onto the mattress. 

As she withdraws from the bed, Napoleon watches her go from underneath his splayed arm. He rolls onto his stomach, attempting to get comfortable again. Illya is close enough to his face that when he snores, it brushes a lock of his hair across his forehead. His eyes snap back open. 

Gaby is sinking into a chair at the small square dining table with a mug of coffee as Napoleon enters. His hair is in much the same disarray, although he has redressed into his former glory. He immediately disappears into the kitchen for a mug of coffee. 

NAPOLEON 

I've never been more abused by a woman in bed. 

GABY 

( blowing on her coffee )

Illya's snoring kept giving me dreams about being chased by a bear through the woods. 

Napoleon reappears in the entryway, slumped against the frame as he chastises her. 

NAPOLEON 

You chose this life. 

The soft CREAKS of the floorboards lifts their attentions to Illya, whose sporting sheet creases on half of his face and looking the best slept out of the three of them. 

GABY 

( eyebrows raised )

Good morning. 

ILLYA 

( mumbling )

Morning. 

Napoleon sets his mug down, passing Illya to disappear back into the bedroom. Illya blinks down at the abandoned mug, sinking down into the chair opposite of Gaby to pick it up. 

ILLYA 

( sips napoleon's coffee)

Did you sleep well?

GABY 

Well enough. 

NAPOLEON 

( from the bedroom )

It was a pleasure sleeping with you both, but I think we should see other spies. 

ILLYA

Too delicate to get a good night's sleep, Cowboy? 

NAPOLEON 

You'll be happy to know you didn't make it any easier. 

Illya smiles to himself. 

Napoleon re-enters, lugging the backpack of tracking equipment down to stop himself in front of an old dusty mirror. He squints at it and begins to quickly prim the curls of his hair down. 

NAPOLEON 

( while fussing )

Waverly will want this in. I'll have to take a rain check on the coffee. 

GABY 

What about us? 

He lifts the pack back over his shoulder again, passing to make an exit. 

NAPOLEON 

( innocently )

What about you? 

The door CLICKS shut in his absence. Gaby clicks her tongue, turning her head back to her coffee with an embittered look. 

GABY 

( annoyed )

Looks like we'll have to get a cab there. 

ILLYA 

We can take the motorcycle. 

GABY 

( sinks her elbows onto the table )

Unless you have a small pair of trousers hidden here somewhere, I'll have to insist. 

ILLYA 

( catches himself )

Ah....no. 

( a beat )

Do you need anything else? 

Their gaze hangs in the air a beat. Gaby is the first to break it, falling down to concentrate running her thumb across the lip of her mug. 

GABY 

( shaking her head )

Uh...no I think. I think I'm fine. 

Illya nods wordlessly, lifting from the table with his mug to carry into the kitchen. Gaby ponders in his absence, listening as Illya cleans up with soft patters of glassware and closing cupboards. 

Illya is patting his hands dry with a small embroidered tea towel when Gaby appears to hover behind him in the entry to the kitchen. 

GABY 

( hesitantly )

Illya? 

Illya stops to twist around from his fussing. Concern is immediate on his face, but it softens away to curiosity. 

ILLYA 

Yes? 

GABY 

( braves a small smile )

Thank you for letting us stay here. 

Illya smiles in return. 

ILLYA 

( giving a small nod )

Of course...If you ever need a place to stay in New York, you can always come here. Is not much, but is safe. 

She takes a step forward. His fingers idly scrub between the folds of the towel, watching her close the gap between them. 

GABY 

You're good at that, making me feel safe. 

ILLYA 

( nods again, stopping glance down between them )

I am...glad to hear. 

GABY 

( testing )

Did you think I wasn't? 

ILLYA 

( catches himself to look back up to her )

No, not that. It is hard to explain. 

His space has been breached well by her. She stops, not too close but not out of reach either. 

GABY 

( tilts her head to one side, evaluating him )

What, that I'd be afraid of you instead? 

ILLYA 

( quietly as he shakes his head )

Is not so simple. 

GABY 

( sighs )

It never is with you, but it doesn't have to be either. 

ILLYA 

( confused )

No? 

She reaches out, resting her hand along his chest. 

GABY 

( shakes her head )

No... 

His hands still hover between them, but gradually he drops them away to let her in. Her hand slides up his chest as she steps in closer to him. As his gaze flickers down from her eyes, her lips quickly find his. Her arms draw around his neck, enclosing him in a kiss that takes his breath away. She curls into his touch when his arms find their way around her back, drawing her up just barely off her toes. 

Gaby's hand slides back to angle a palm into the tilt of his head. She parts from him, just far enough to take a breath. 

GABY 

( huffs quietly )

It's about time. 

Illya lets out an airy laugh and kisses him again between breaths. 

ILLYA 

I-- 

The phone RATTLES with a ring across the room, startling at the both of them. It follows in two successions before cutting into silence. Gaby turns to look at it over her shoulder as if it's personally offended her. Illya merely blows out a long-winded sigh before lowering her down to her feet. 

U.N.C.L.E HEADQUARTERS - EARLY AFTERNOON

Illya and Gaby emerge from the elevator into the agency lobby. Gaby lowers her sunglasses to find Napoleon lounged into a couch with the New York Times open in his lap. 

NAPOLEON 

( while reading )

Hogging all the action, are we? 

Both Illya and Gaby immediately look alarmed 

GABY 

( flabbergasted )

Excuse you? 

Napoleon tosses the Times onto a glass coffee table to look up at the both of them flustering into oblivion. 

NAPOLEON 

( as he stands )

I found Tom and Jerry up in your hotel room this morning, they were just as surprised to see me. 

GABY 

( in a warning tone )

And what were you doing in my hotel room? 

Illya's arms fold, following Cowboy's ascent up to the both of them. 

ILLYA 

( getting defensive )

You just happened to break into her room? Or was the door perhaps open? 

NAPOLEON 

I was following the tracker. But since you asked, no we didn't get the guy. He didn't even give me the chance.

Illya's glare turns into a frown. 

ILLYA 

That is not good. 

NAPOLEON 

( holds his hands out agreeably )

Precisely my sentiment. On the upside, they came with presents. Nuts and Bolts is having a look at them as we speak. 

ILLYA 

( nods )

I will be right back. 

He leaves Gaby with a light touch of the shoulder, disappearing down a long corridor. Napoleon and Gaby left alone share a glance, leaving Napoleon with a small smile across his lips. His hand gestures out the opposite way. 

NAPOLEON 

As for you, there's something I need to show you. 

THE FIFTH FLOOR MEN'S BATHROOM

The door closes with a hollow CLICK. A narrow light flickers overhead, illuminating the stale simple row of urinals opposite of a wide mirror of sinks. Napoleon looks around as if garnering its assets with Gaby at his back looking utterly displeased by his antics. 

GABY 

( sarcastically )

Isn't this charming. Please don't tell me this is one of your tactics. 

NAPOLEON 

( turning to her, empathetic )

Gaby, please. 

A shrug rolls her shoulder up. Napoleon turns from her to tease open the stall door. He makes a round around the bathroom, leaving two sinks running as he returns to her. 

GABY 

( hands drop to her sides )

Well, what's this all about? 

NAPOLEON 

( quietly )

The men in your hotel, they were prepared to kill themselves to evade capture. It suggested a higher level of training to me than your average henchman. Then there's the annoying fact that they seem to be a step ahead no matter how careful we are. 

GABY 

Implying they're intelligence, a bit extreme for a politician. 

NAPOLEON 

( nods agreeably )

Yes, if they were working for him. 

GABY 

( her head tilts as if something has clicked )

You think there's someone in U.N.C.L.E trying to clean up for someone else. 

Napoleon looks up from her, with all the signs pointing to yes. 

NAPOLEON 

It's a distinct possibility. In that case, it's only a matter of who. 

GABY 

I've taken you're already concocting a plan. 

NAPOLEON 

( shrugs )

I'm open to suggestions. 

Gaby raises her hand to pin under her chin, dwelling in a thought that couldn't be more obvious. 

GABY 

Play into their hand. 

NAPOLEON 

That leaves us to figure out what their hand is. 

GABY 

We continue to think Javits is involved. At this rate, we keep snooping, and they'll-- 

( she stops, turning over her shoulder to listen for footsteps roaming down the hall, they pause before continuing on )

\--come back around. 

Napoleon looks down at her from the door, looking mildly impressed. 

NAPOLEON 

Your keen sense for treachery is both endearing and disturbing. 

GABY 

( rolls her eyes )

You act like you've never done it before. 

A grin flashes across his lips as he reaches out to take her hands lightly into his. 

NAPOLEON 

( swings her hands childishly )

I guess I'm playing into your hands. 

GABY 

( apathetic )

I think you enjoy proving people wrong far too much. 

At last second, she whips her hands away form his grip. Her foot falls back in turn to take the door. Napoleon looks on amused, waiting a beat before following her. 

NAPOLEON 

I enjoy a lot of things. 

GABY 

I'm sure you do. 

U.N.C.L.E HEADQUARTERS 

As Gaby turns to walk down the hall, Napoleon falls in step with her. His hand folds into one pocket of his pants, they both nod in passing to a clerk busing the opposite way. 

NAPOLEON 

Javits is attending a fundraiser tonight. We can do our playing there. 

WAVERLY 

And just what sort of playing are we speaking of, Mr Solo?

Waverly leans an arm in the doorway, hand wrapped around a stack of paperwork. Gaby passes a glance up to Napoleon, who greets Waverly with a pressing smile. 

NAPOLEON 

Sir. I believe it's a discussion best done over coffee. 

WAVERLY 

Of course. 

( he steps aside to welcome napoleon through )

Oh, and Miss Teller? I am sorry about your room. Wendy will be sure to set you up with new accommodations, through the agency of course. 

GABY'S HOTEL ROOM - AFTERNOON

Louis Prima and Keely Smith duet through the small speakers of a bathroom radio. Gaby's hips tap to their banter while she unfolds her suitcase in a new suite, lifting dresses until she finds something proper. 

Her hip rests on the counter while she fixes her cat eye, blinking back at the reflection of her self. The song winds down, cut in by a laugh track that echoes in from across the suits. Gaby leans back to look out the door, rightfully confused. She eases herself to her feet, stopping at her suitcase which has been completely emptied. Expression grave, she eases towards the sound of the television. 

She turns the corner to find Napoleon fixed into her sofa. His long legs splayed outward onto the coffee table, crossed delicately at the ankle. He teases a glass of brandy to his lips, addressing her with a look as the program on the television switches to a commercial. 

NAPOLEON

I knocked, but you must have been preoccupied. Something on your mind? 

GABY 

( looking on in disbelief )

How long have you been there? 

NAPOLEON 

( sets his glass down on a side table )

Long enough to get to Carroll O'Connor's guest role. The man has the sort of face you can't shake having seen before. 

GABY 

You could have said something, there was only two hit men in my last hotel room after all. 

Napoleon lifts his legs to pick up a spare glass full of the strange round disks. Setting it next to his own glass, he makes a show of drowning them in a pitcher of water. 

NAPOLEON 

I thought I would stop by to make sure there wasn't going to be an encore. Are you sure staying in hotels is in your best interest? 

Gaby's arms fold, not sure if she should be utterly displeased or thankful for him. 

GABY 

( defensively )

I don't really have the luxury of options at the moment. 

NAPOLEON 

( gives her a welcoming gesture )

Luxury should never be optional. Mi casa es su casa. 

GABY 

Your last place wasn't much to bark about. 

NAPOLEON 

( hums a tone of musement )

I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. 

GABY 

( cooly, snagging her sunglasses off the counter )

We'll see about that. 

ON THE AVE 

Gaby totes her suitcase down the stairs of the hotel, much to the dismay of the bellboy holding the door open for her. Napoleon nods the boy a thanks, his hand bend at his waist as he follows her down to the street. 

GABY 

Did you get your car fixed? 

Her head turns to him for direction, which he gestures to one parked just a building over. 

NAPOLEON 

Naturally. 

GABY 

( setting her suitcase down )

Am I still allowed to drive? 

Napoleon takes in a considerable look before fishing out his keys to hand to her. In exchange, he picks up her suitcase to tuck into the trunk of his car. 

NAPOLEON 

Who am I to say no? 

Gaby twirls the keys, rounding to the driver's side with a concealed pleasure. 

GABY 

I'm surprised you even take your own car out for work. 

NAPOLEON 

Some say the thrill is in the adventure. 

They both clamber into the car. Gaby sticks the key in the ignition, keys jingling obnoxiously as she twists it to start. Her expression falls, fingers clamping across the keys to silence them. Napoleon looks over, visibly confused to her delay. 

GABY 

( sternly )

Out of the car. 

Without question, Napoleon backs out of the car without a word. He excuses himself across the street, through passing traffic while Gaby remains frozen in the driver's seat. The engine rumbles to life, and Napoleon sighs out in relief. 

Suddenly, the car BURSTS into ROARING flames, windows shattering in all directions. The frame of the car SCREECHES as it lands back on the ground. Patrons in the street scream, scattering from the snafu of the detionation sight.

Napoleon drops his arm from across his face, caught in a look of devastation. Once adjusted, his eyes dart around frantically as debris spreads out from around the roaring frame from his car. 

NAPOLEON 

( unsure )

Gaby? 

All traffic has stopped except for one motorbike winding down the road. The call of an ambulance WAILS in the distance, triggering him to mull forward into the wreckage for any sign of Gaby. 

NAPOLEON 

( getting louder )

....Gaby?? 

As he rounds the wreckage back onto the sidewalk, he spots a small figure curled into the foundation of a building. 

NAPOLEON'S APARTMENT 

Gaby lies unconscious, tucked into the couch of Napoleon's lavish living room. Save for the call-signs of a few scorch marks and dirt, she looks wholly intact. 

Illya looms beside couch like a well trained guard dog, nostrils flaring. Napoleon stands across from him, arms folded tightly across his chest ready to take the brunt of his partner's anger. 

ILLYA 

( angrily )

You should not have been so reckless. 

NAPOLEON 

( sternly, as he looks up from gaby)

I wasn't. 

A scoff hitches out of Illya's throat, his arm throws out to his side at her. 

ILLYA 

( hissing quietly )

Look at her, she needs a hospit-- 

NAPOLEON 

( carefully )

\--She'll be fine, Peril. And until we find the leak, you know she wont be safe anywhere else but with either of us. 

A groan rumbles out from the cushions of the couch, deterring the attentions of both men down to Gaby as she stirs. Whatever is left of Illya's piercing gaze softens at the sight of her. 

ILLYA 

( concerning )

Gaby... 

Gaby's breath hitches as she tries to push herself up, triggering Illya to bend down to help her. She doesn't fight the help, letting him ease her up into a seated position. 

GABY 

( weakly )

Where are we? 

NAPOLEON 

( nods assuringly )

You'll be safe here, for now. Peril? We need to lose the hot car. There will be a BOLO. 

ILLYA 

( nods, not looking away from gaby )

I will take care of it. 

Gaby looks down at herself, assessing for damage. Her fingers graze the curve of her ribs, looking troubled as she presses down on them. Illya's hand falls on her shoulder, grazing it soothingly with the pad of his thumb. 

ILLYA 

( softly )

How do you feel? You smell like smoke. 

GABY 

( scoffs )

Funny, because I feel like shit. 

Napoleon, having remained feet planted from his spot, smirks to himself at the remark. He avails his gaze to turn into the kitchen. 

ILLYA 

You should have been more careful, you got very lucky.

Gaby's hand lifts to find Illya's, simply resting on top of it to quell his worries. 

GABY 

I'll be fine. 

ILLYA 

( nods with a small, forced smile )

You are doing great. 

NAPOLEON 

( reemerging from the kitchen with a small compress of ice )

And I don't know about you, but I'd like to finish this sooner rather than later. The collateral is getting out of hand. 

Illya gives her shoulder a light squeeze before he stands. When he looks to Napoleon again, it is absent of the rage he graced him before. 

ILLYA 

Yes, I will secure the perimeter. 

He gathers his flat cap off the coffee table, fitting it on his head before exiting the apartment. Napoleon passes the compress between his hands before moving to take a seat in a chair next to Gaby's sofa. 

NAPOLEON 

( passing her the compress )

I have to say, I've never worked with anyone that willingly detonated themselves before. 

GABY 

Can't say there's nothing more thrilling than playing roulette with a set of car keys. I wouldn't recommend it. 

NAPOLEON 

How do you feel, really? 

Her head eases against the compress, relief washing over her. 

GABY 

Like I got kicked in the ribs. How long until the fundraiser? 

Napoleon watches her, impassive to her state but concern still states itself across his face. 

NAPOLEON 

You've seen better days. Are you still certain? 

GABY 

I saw who it was, we need to lure them out. 

His lips press, leaving a few words go unsaid. 

NAPOLEON 

( standing up )

It's your call. 

GABY 

I can do it if you have something to take the edge off. 

A smile tugs the corner of his mouth upward. 

NAPOLEON 

( nods )

That I can do. 

Napoleon disappears again in the kitchen, leaving Gaby to rest against the compress. When her eyes open again, Napoleon is there with a glass of water and a few pills in his hand. 

NAPOLEON 

( handing her the pills first and then the glass )

Whoever Javits is working with will expect you are onto them now, if not dead already. It's time to close the deal. 

GABY 

( taking the medication in one gulp )

Javits will be easy to get alone, he was very fond of me. 

NAPOLEON 

( cheekily )

Yes, I think a car bomb is the universal way to express affection. 

Gaby gears a look at him that reeks of smarm despite her state. 

GABY

( slowly )

I think it's called playing hard to get. 

An eyebrow lifts in surprise across Napoleon's face. He takes a step back to gauge her briefly before holding up two fingers on one hand and one finger on the other. 

NAPOLEON 

How many fingers? 

GABY 

( stiffly ignoring his request )

I'm fine. 

His hands drop in the face of her petulant stubbornness. She makes a point of it by pulling herself to her feet. He gets out of her way, remaining close by in case it backfires on her. Her movements are sluggish, hesitant to stumble upon more pain, but she makes it to her feet eventually. 

NAPOLEON 

Remember, it's not me you'll have to fool. 

GABY 

( straightening out her dress, which is now obviously ruined )

Unless you have a back up plan, I'll just have to learn how to be convincing enough in an hour. 

A thoughtful pout puckers Napoleon's lips. He turns to cross into the next room. 

NAPOLEON 

I can make a call. 

GABY 

( watching him curiously )

What kind of call? 

NAPOLEON 

( leaning back through the doorway )

The kind that could make your life a little easier. 

Gaby frowns, watching him disappear into the other room. Once she's left alone, she looks down at the state of herself. 

Napoleon has reappeared in the doorway, rolling his sleeve back to check his watch. 

NAPOLEON 

Congratulations, you're dead as of 5:23 pm. You also have a half hour left to get ready. 

His hand turns in gesture to a door opposite of the one he's stood in. She turns curiously to wander inside. 

They enter a smaller guest bedroom, a wardrobe seated at the corner. 

GABY 

( unsure as napoleon makes a path to the wardrobe )

I almost don't want to ask if and how you have a change of clothes for me. 

NAPOLEON 

I'm a man of many and varied acquisitional talents. 

He pries open the wardrobe to reveal a small hanging space full of brightly colored pieces. Some dresses, some jackets, skirts, and blouses. Organized by style and color. Gaby's eyebrows raise, unable to mask her surprise. 

Napoleon begins to rifle through the rail, picking out a black chiffon cocktail dress. He holds it out across both arms for her approval. 

NAPOLEON 

We should go dark. It's a time of mourning. 

Gaby stands there, entirely unsure what to make of the situation. She looks between him and the closet of dresses before succumbing to wave at a lengthy midnight blue piece next to the one he pulled out. 

GABY 

Too simple. The one with the sleeves.

Napoleon turns to gauge her selection, tucking in his dress to pull out the one she chose. He hangs it on the door of the wardrobe and takes his leave. 

NAPOLEON 

I'll leave you to it. 

She emerges a short time later, nose scrunched as she attempts to come to terms to wearing some random woman's leftovers. Napoleon emerges from the kitchen to see her, drying his hands in a towel after cleaning up in her absence. 

GABY 

( pinching open the collar )

Whoever wore this before had awful taste in perfume. 

NAPOLEON 

( gaze flickering up and down her )

She was a bit leggier, too. 

GABY 

( lets go of the collar )

_Ugh._

He tries to not look all too amused by her disgust, fixing the kitchen towel in his hands as he crosses over to her as she fixes a wide-brim hat onto her head. 

NAPOLEON 

( gesturing to his own face )

You've got a little... 

Before she can even react, he winds the towel over one finger and tips her chin to one side to gently work off a dark smudge on her cheek. She doesn't resist, although she's not sure what to make of it. 

GABY 

( scoffs )

How do women find you so charming? 

NAPOLEON

Are you saying I'm not?

Her mouth falls slack of an answer. She holds a stock of annoyance, but it fails as she's avoiding his gaze. He releases her once he's finished, leaving her chin to drop down. She looks up at him, clearly challenged and a breath held ready to speak. 

The door behind them opens. When Illya steps into the room, Napoleon is already discarding the towel into the kitchen sink. Gaby stands positioned in front of a mirror in the hallway, fretting the position of her hat on her head with lightly pink on the cheeks. 

ILLYA 

Car has been taken care of.

NAPOLEON 

( fixing the signet ring back on his finger )

Whenever you're ready. We do have an agent to avenge. 

Gaby passes him a look, strolling to meet Illya with a tightness to her walk. 

GABY 

Let's go. 





	4. Catch & Trade

THE MEN'S RESTROOM 

Murmurs of the dinner party carry on into a small boxed bathroom where Illya and Napoleon prepare. Illya tests a microphone embedded into a clip bow tie with a soft tap before sliding it over to Napoleon. 

ILLYA 

( grumbles )

I do not like this idea. 

Napoleon passes him a blase glance as he fixes the button on each of his shirt cuffs. His lips soften into a frown at the sight of a clip-on bow tie, but he fastens it anyway. 

NAPOLEON 

When have you ever liked an idea of mine? 

ILLYA 

( glances at him through the mirror )

She is bait. 

NAPOLEON 

( meets his gaze )

She'll be fine. 

Illya's gaze doesn't break, as if it were a contest between the two to see who would first. Blindly, he takes the small receiver off the counter to tuck into his breast pocket. 

ILLYA 

She's injured. 

Napoleon is the first to glance away, unwilling to play along with his game. He fastens a small black apron across his waist, double tying it to his front. 

NAPOLEON 

I wouldn't have let her come if I didn't think we had a handle on the situation. The mole wont be expecting her when she shows. 

A flutter of GIGGLES passes through the hall, bringing the both of them to a dead halt until it fades off. 

ILLYA 

( after a break of silence)

We do not know what they are capable of. 

NAPOLEON 

( fixes his hair back into a state of perfection )

Good thing there's the two of us to cover the bases. 

Illya too assesses himself in the mirror, looking down to adjust his blazer and stiff the collar. 

ILLYA 

You gamble too much on the safety of others. 

Napoleon breaks from his own preening to witness his partner's. After a moment, he turns to reach other and adjust Illya's tie off it's crooked stance. Illya freezes, turning to him to witness the near-constant audacity that Napoleon puts forth. 

NAPOLEON 

Have I given you reason to doubt me before? 

( finishes fussing on his behalf and pats his shoulder warmly to pass )

Now turn that frown upside down, your wife is about to return from the dead. 

Napoleon exits, leaving Illya to watch him in a dumbfounded silence. He stops to adjust the tie himself once more and trails back out to the party. 

FUNDRAISER PATIO - DUSK

White tents cascade overhead as a party bubbles below. Waiters drift around clusters of patrons with trays of h'orderves and glasses of wine. Gaby is among them, hugging a half-full glass to her her chest. She smiles and nods to the man who speaks to a small captivated crowd. Sorely, she rolls her shoulder before sipping down at her wine. 

JACOB JAVITZ 

( eyeing gaby )

Mrs. Schuber, you're looking a little stiff. 

GABY 

( hums )

I slept poorly last night. Who knew American beds were so stiff. 

JACOB JAVITZ 

( leaning in )

You know, I ordered myself one of the new-- 

WAITRESS 

\--Mrs. Schuber, you have a phone call in the waiting room. 

The two of them turn to a spritely looking young waitress with bouncy blond hair. Gaby hesitates a beat, having lost her thought. 

GABY 

( distractedly )

Ah, yes. Excuse me Mr. Javitz. If you see my husband, please send him my way.

She turns to part him a smile, letting the blonde waitress guide her away. Across the patio, Napoleon empties a tray of wine to a group of women. He bows with a cat-like grin, excusing himself just in time to see Gaby disappear back inside the venue. He stops at the bar to gather a bottle from underneath the table dress. Illya leans against the corner, nursing a melted glass of brandy down with a grimace. 

NAPOLEON 

She's on it. 

ILLYA 

( nods )

Get the car ready. 

Napoleon tucks his tray, ducking past another waiter to escape into the kitchens. Illya finishes his glass before passing it down. As he turns to follow after Gaby, an older woman stops him with a hand to his chest. 

MRS. JAVITZ 

( fondly )

Oh, Mr. Schuber. There you are. I thought you were avoiding poor Francesca. 

ILLYA 

( kindly pushing her hand aside )

Not at all, excuse me. 

Illya brushes past her, turning her on her heel. She bites her bottom lip softly, willowy hand scooping up the neck of a champagne flute to trail after him. In a few glides, she's made her way to his side, turning him back around. 

MRS. JAVITZ 

Not really talkative are you? 

ILLYA 

( huffs softly, he attempts to keep his composure )

No, now if you'll excuse me. I believe my wife is looking for me. 

WAITING ROOM 

The blonde waitress leads Gaby into a cream colored waiting room offset to the bathrooms. A phone lies on the corner of a small table, set just ajar off its hook. 

WAITRESS 

( after waving gaby inside )

I'll leave you to your privacy, miss. 

Gaby relieves her with a slight nod, trailing over to the phone. 

GABY 

Thank you. 

She eases her purse down onto the edge of the table, reaching inside it with one hand as the other grasps the hook. 

WAITRESS

There's no need for that. 

Gaby's head lifts, carefully turning the phone back on its hook as the waitress CLICKS the safety on a small pistol aimed at Gaby's back. 

GABY 

( stiffly )

If you're going to start to get messy, I don't see why I shouldn't. 

Gaby turns, her elbow tucked into her side with a procured gun of her own. The waitress shuffles unevenly in her spot before the door, unaware of the shadow growing at her back. Gaby remains still as Illya appears, stalking silently behind the unassuming woman. Once he's close enough to haunt a breath on her neck, she begins to turn. His hand throws swiftly down in the crease of her neck, and she falls limp into his arms. 

GABY 

( quickly tucking her gun away )

Nice work. 

Snapping her purse shut, Gaby rushes over to Illya as he eases the mole onto the floor. Quickly, he confiscates the fallen gun into the waistband of his pants and makes quick work of binding her hands. 

ILLYA 

( looking up at her )

You ok? 

Gaby nods, armed with an answer at her lips. But before she can speak, Mrs. Javitz appears in the door way behind him, eyes flying wide with a horrific gasp. 

MRS. JAVITZ

What on earth are you two doing? 

ALLEYWAY BEHIND THE BUILDING 

A car pulls up to the delivery door. Napoleon tucks eagerly at the collar of his shirt, looking around eagerly for any sign of his partners. A shadow appears over his driver's side window, prompting him to lower his window. 

NAPOLEON 

( innocently )

Is this not the valet? 

He comes face to the barrel of a pointed gun at the figure's side. The feigned smile on his face stiffens with unease. 

NAPOLEON 

Now wait, I believe we can work something ou-- 

Before he can finish, his face is met with the butt of the gun. 

WAITING ROOM 

Meanwhile, Illya and Gaby are faced with an eye witness. Gaby remains crouched over the blonde mole while Illya poorly attempts to placate her without looking overly threatening. 

GABY 

I--she fainted. 

Mrs. Javitz attempts to lean over one side of Illya's broadness, only to be met with him leaning to block her sight. 

ILLYA 

You should not see. 

MRS. JAVITZ 

( affronted, her voice raising )

Now listen here--I. I am no fool I-- 

Before she can finish, Illya has his arms around her, one hand clasped over her mouth to muffle an oncoming scream. 

ILLYA 

Believe me it is in your best interest to be quiet. 

Mrs. Javitz stares deeply into Illya's eyes before succumbing to her wiles and faints in his arms. Gently, he lets her crumple down onto the floor. Gaby finishes fastening the mole's wrists together, leaving Illya to hoist her over one shoulder. 

GABY 

Let's get out of here. 

ALLEYWAY BEHIND THE BUILDING 

Gaby and Illya pile out of the back of the venue, Gaby leading the way to where their getaway car should be. There's nothing but trash cans and empty uneven turf. 

GABY 

( hisses )

Where is he? 

ILLYA 

( adjusting the pin on his jacket lapel )

Cowboy, come in. 

They linger in silence, but no response comes through. Gaby steps further into the street, beginning to scan for clues across the ground. 

GABY 

( freezes mid step )

Look. 

In the middle of the alleyway lies a plain clip-on bow tie. Gaby picks it up to expose a microphone tucked in the knot.It's Napoleon's. 

ILLYA 

( frowning )

No good. 

The two share a look of concern before taking in the rest of the site for clues, but none stand out clearly. 

GABY 

I'll get us a car. We need to get to Waverly, now. 

U.N.C.L.E HEADQUARTERS 

Waverly adjusts his glasses indifferently at the two agents standing in his reception. Illya passes off the mole to a pair of men who followed them to Waverly's office. 

WAVERLY 

Miss Teller, I've been told you look remarkably well for someone who is no longer with us. 

Instinctively, Gaby looks down at herself briefly before treating her handler back with a slightly sheepish expression. 

GABY 

( awkwardly )

It's a long story, one of which I'm sure the mole we just found will be happy to explain. 

Waverly eyes the unconscious agent behind their backs, giving the two men a nod of approval to carry her away. 

WAVERLY 

( hums )

Yes, bully for you for ferreting Miss McGready out. Now--

GABY 

( interrupting )

\--Now we need to get Solo. 

WAVERLY 

( hesitant )

It would be in everyone's best interests. What knowledge do you have of his captors? 

ILLYA 

( steps forward to stand beside gaby)

The mole was not working alone. Her assets are highly skilled and ditched any tech I could have used to track him. 

GABY 

( beginning to get frustrated )

So we got nothing. We just have to wait? 

WAVERLY

I'm afraid so. There is one other way I can foresee expediting the process, but she's had a rather bad day and isn't very talkative at the moment.

ILLYA 

( blandly )

She tried to roll into traffic, I protected her from herself. 

GABY 

( grumbles )

At least she didn't blow up in a car. 

Her gaze meets a sharp glance under Waverly's glasses. 

WAVERLY 

( speaking up )

Let's take a moment to be grateful that your untimely demise thusly was a ruse, although next time I'd thank you to let me in on the secret. I have already lost one agent today, although not much of one.

The scold leaves her to scuffle with a bit of unease, her arms swinging up to fold against her chest. 

GABY 

Did you find anything from the bugs she was planting? 

WAVERLY 

Unfortunately, only their country of origin, which isn't much use to you now that the cat's out of the bag. For any information they may have recorded, we would have to recover the receiving device as well. 

( one hand lifts as if to physically turn the conversation on its head )

While we're on the subject of recovery, retrieving Solo will be impossible until his captors make contact. That is, if they have demands. 

ILLYA 

( slightly grave )

So we wait. 

Gaby's lips press tightly, as if swallowing her words. 

GABY 

( sternly )

If you hear from anyone, I want to know immediately. 

Waverly fights a look of endearment, nodding solely for Gaby's benefit as they turn to take their leave. 

WAVERLY 

Straight away, I assure you.

U.N.C.L.E HEADQUARTERS - LOUNGE 

They lean precariously on opposite sides of the room. Illya with his eyes trained down the hallway towards Waverly's office, Gaby at the window frowning bitterly outside. 

The silence is thick between them, both seem troubled by the absence of their third partner. Lastly, Gaby lets out a sigh that feels long held within her. It stirs Illya from his spot, as if only acknowledging her just now. He finds himself at her side, looking out aimlessly into the street. 

ILLYA 

They are going to want a trade. 

GABY 

We don't know what she's collected on us, something tells me Waverly will be reluctant to give them what they want. 

ILLYA 

( under his breath )

Idiot Cowboy going and getting himself caught once again. 

GABY 

( blinks out of her daze to look up at him )

Again? 

WAVERLY 

Gaby. 

They both turn to find Waverly waiting them in the doorway. He beckons with only a flick of his wrist, one foot out the door to drag them back into his office. 

WAVERLY'S OFFICE

WAVERLY 

( gestures to his chair )

Do have a seat. 

Gaby immediately sinks down into a plush leather chair on the operating side of Waverly's desk. Illya stands stiffly at the mouth of the room, watching Waverly set up a series of recording equipment. Gaby picks the phone up off the desk, glancing between the two other men while she puts it to her ear. 

GABY 

( tentatively )

Hello? 

NAPOLEON 

( hoarsely )

Gaby. 

GABY 

( anxious )

Solo? Are you alright? 

NAPOLEON 

( clears throat )

I have to speak very plainly. They intend to use me as a bargaining chip for McGready. 

GABY 

We figured as much. 

NAPOLEON 

( a beat )

They want confirmation. 

Her gaze flickers up to search Illya and Waverly for a better answer only to find none. 

GABY 

( another beat )

She is still...indisposed at the moment. 

NAPOLEON 

( slowly )

Gaby, listen very carefully. 

Murmuring sparks up over the line, rapidly rumbling into a full blown argument. 

NAPOELON 

( voice rising over a rumbling crowd )

I'm going to make it simple: It's right inside St. Helena. Go over вечером. 

A SCRAPE drags over the mic, followed by a dial tone. Gaby lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in, dropping the phone back on the receiver. 

ILLYA

( turning to waverly )

He gave us a code. We can go.

A sigh collapses from Waverly's chest. He winds the recording tape back to begin unpacking the reel. 

WAVERLY 

You understand there's no way we can hand the mole over to an unknown organization, knowing the things that she does about U.N.C.L.E. 

He's avoiding looking at Gaby, whose gaze now bores into him as she rises from her seat. 

GABY 

( snaps )

So what, we're just going to leave him there? We don't know what they'll do. 

Waverly stops his process to look across the desk to her, he sets the reel down and closes the case with a tight SNAP. 

WAVERLY 

( voice rising to reinstate his authority )

I'm afraid, Miss Teller, he knew the risks when he accepted the work. I will do what I can, but I can't do that. 

GABY

But-- 

A hand comes down onto Gaby's shoulder, Illya now stands beside her, dispersing the rising tension between the two. 

ILLYA 

( calmly )

Gaby, he is not wrong. 

Waverly nods in thanks, tucking the reel into his palm as he exits the room. 

WAVERLY 

( pulling the door open for them )

We'll get analysis on this. If you'll excuse me. 

Gaby's chest rises to speak, but stops at Illya's beckoning. Their eyes meet, coming to some unspoken conclusion. She relents to his touch. Illya looks up from her to Waverly with a disapproving glare. He waits patiently for Gaby to move, following after her as if he were her shadow. 

ILLYA 

Let's go. 

U.N.C.L.E HEADQUARTERS - LOUNGE 

As Waverly's door shuts behind them, Gaby swerves around on her heel to stop Illya in his tracks. 

GABY 

( chin tilted up )

So? 

Illya's hands raise to her sides, as if to buffer her before she barrels herself out of the building. 

ILLYA 

( carefully )

Gaby, there is no plan. 

GABY 

( tersely )

We're not just waiting here. 

Her hands fall on her hips, finger tapping along the bone as she waits for him to bend under her will. 

ILLYA 

( repeating as if on a script )

There are orders. Waverly knows what he is doing. 

GABY 

If it were me, you'd be out the door no matter what Waverly said. 

Illya falters under her gaze, eyes rolling as he turns his attention to the receptionist's desk. He reaches forward to take her by the arm, turning her around to lead her out into the hallway. 

ILLYA 

( quietly )

Perhaps but is not you, Cowboy will be fine as long as we have what they want. He has training for this. 

Gaby follows him, clearly affronted by being steered by her elbow, but no attempt is made to slow him down. 

GABY 

( whispering )

We don't know what they'll do. 

Illya turns to her, stopping her at an entrance to a stairwell. His eyebrows raise, alluding to her that perhaps he's not without a plan. 

ILLYA 

Yes we do, I know who it is. 

THE GARAGE 

The two empty out of the stairwell into a low lit parking garage somewhere beneath the building. Across the lot sits a dozing security guard near the exit. 

ILLYA 

( releases her to track back to the door )

You see door across the way? Meet me there with car in ten minutes. 

Gaby's head whips to follow the point of his finger. 

GABY 

Wait, what's going on? 

ILLYA 

His phrase, he was telling us it is the Irish government. We will give them their agent. 

Before he can make it back through the door, Gaby's fingers have snagged the sleeve of his jacket to reel him back. 

GABY 

What about Waverly? What if he tries to stop you. 

Something that of a small chuckle lumps itself in his chest. His hand kindly winds around to touch her arm, she releases her grip on him immediately. 

ILLYA 

( musingly )

No one ever stops me, little chop shop girl. 

His fingers leave her with a soft tap, withdrawing back into the stairwell before she has the right mind to edge in any more words. 

When Illya emerges through the doors across the lot, Gaby is waiting inside a car with the doors bent wide open. He ducks into the back to tuck an unconscious McGready into the back seat and pins the door shut behind himself. 

ILLYA 

( leaning over the back of gaby's seat )

Drive. 

On cue, Gaby's foot smashes down on the gas. The commotion seems to shake the security guard in gear, his radio buzzing with an angry crackle of static. He stumbles to his feet as the car whirls past him up the ramp. 

GABY 

St Helena's? 

ILLYA 

( nods )

St Helena's. 

ST HELENA'S CHURCH 

The door BURSTS open with a rattle as Illya heaves their unconscious hostage through the doors. A few patrons in the pews snap their heads over their shoulders as the two dump themselves into the vestibule. A PRIEST hobbles down the central isle, arm waving frantically before they accrue any damage done. 

PRIEST 

What on Earth-- 

( he stops mid path at the sight of McGready, eyes growing wide )

Take her through here. 

The priest hushes the two into a side chamber, which they follow without question. Inside, a stiff older man with broad shoulders looks up from underneath a brown flat cap at the two intruders. 

IRISHMAN 

( gruffly )

What's the meaning of this? 

Illya adjusts the weight of McGready in his arms, he makes a show of lifting her hair away from her face as if brandishing a symbol of safe passage. 

ILLYA 

We give you what you wanted. Your turn. 

At the sight of McGready, the irishman grumbles under his breath. With a sharp nod for them to follow, he leads the two down a long hallway into the priest's chamber. Several other members of Irish Intelligence remain inside, including that of an older white blonde woman who hushes the rest with a raise of her hand. 

Napoleon sits in the corner, looking not too worse for wear. His head slumped forward, entire midsection aggressively bound through layers of packing tape. His head lifts to see what's caused the lack of commotion. 

ILLYA 

( nods to him )

Cowboy. 

GABY 

( unflinching )

We brought McGready, now give him back to us. 

The woman's eyebrow raises, looking her over for some stake in her authority. She glances among her own men, nodding for two of them to step forward to retrieve McGready safely. Illya hands her over without a fight, watching as she is gently pulled aside but not freed from any of her binds. 

IRISH HANDLER 

( sternly )

Call it done. Her involvement with U.N.C.L.E and her extra curricular affairs must be entirely erased. 

ILLYA 

( deadpan )

I suggest you train your moles better. 

Gaby shoots him a glare in return, her hand lifting to his chest as if it had any power to stop him. 

GABY 

\--What my partner means is I imagine you would not like to make enemies of U.N.C.L.E, since you were specific not to address who you actually were. Making us believe you were a rogue organization and not a verifiable intelligence agency who lost control of one of its agents. We're happy to trade her over, as long as she's kept in line when it comes to us. 

IRISH HANDLER 

( scoffs )

She's not a mole. Although after the extent she went to cover her tracks and the damage she did, she'll wish she'd gotten something more out of it. 

ILLYA 

Then we are done here, yes? 

The handler turns, gathering a bag off the center table. This seems to signify their exit, as the rest of the men start leaving with McGready in tow. The handler is last to leave, turning to Illya and Gaby with her hand on the door. 

IRISH HANDLER 

Let's hope we never have to see each other again. Good day. 

Once the door shuts behind her, Gaby immediately goes for a letter opener discarded across the desk and tears away the strip of tape over Napoleon's mouth. 

NAPOLEON 

( hisses before releasing a relieved breath)

Thank you. 

GABY 

( rounding the chair to begin slicing at the tape across the crease in his arm )

What did they do to you? 

NAPOLEON 

( wincing as he sits up)

I believe the moral of this story is miscommunication. 

Illya meanders up to him, kneeling down to retrieve a knife from under his pant leg. Napoleon tiredly eyes him with a meager curiosity as he cuts the tape around his legs. 

ILLYA 

He opened his big mouth and it backfired on him. Multiple times it seems. 

NAPOLEON 

( sighs )

They were very reluctant to let on, but I should've known from those hair-trigger tempers 

Gaby leans over one side of him to catch the corner of his eye. 

GABY 

( blandly )

Nice people, the Irish. 

NAPOLEON 

( begins peeling the tape off his shirt )

Their reputation precedes them. Is there a B-team standing by?

Gaby tosses the letter opener back across the table around the same time Illya rises. They both let Napoleon finish peeling tape off of himself enough to free himself from the chair. 

GABY 

( arms folding )

No. 

ILLYA 

( looking away )

We are in a lot of trouble because of you, Cowboy. 

NAPOLEON 

( pleasant )

For me? You shouldn't have. 

Napoleon's eyebrows raise. He shakes out his shirt one last time before passing the both of them with a particular smugness. 

NAPOLEON 

( turning to eye them both curiously )

How did you get McGready back out of U.N.C.L.E custody? 

Illya holds a breath, surging forward for the door before any more time is wasted among them. 

ILLYA 

Let's say sooner we get back, the better. 

As Gaby follows, Napoleon catches her eye as if to beg further explanation, but she declines to give him an answer. He is left, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves as he tails their shadows. 

NAPOLEON 

Alright, but warn me if we're going to be shot on sight. 

U.N.C.L.E HEADQUARTERS - WAVERLY'S OFFICE 

WAVERLY 

( gesturing to the chairs )

Please, sit. Solo, welcome back. Kuryakin, Miss Teller, you're looking well. I can't say the same for the agents you dispatched on your last visit. Don't worry, they'll recover. 

As they file in, it's only Napoleon who has the audacity to sit, his leg crossed at the ankle, he looks on as Waverly settles back down in his own chair. 

ILLYA 

It was most efficient way to extract the hostage. No vital injuries.

NAPOLEON 

( shrugs )

I'll send them flowers. 

WAVERLY 

And how was Miss O Briain? Chilly as ever, I suspect. 

NAPOLEON

( tilts his head curiously )

And she was a poor host, to be honest. Is that why you were a no show, sir? 

WAVERLY 

( smiles )

No, not at all. I'm afraid it took just a little too long to interpret your message for Miss Teller and Kuryakins tastes. By the time I understood what the proposed deal was, it was simply easier to let them carry on. 

NAPOLEON 

( glancing across at the two of them )

I for one am not criticizing their priorities. 

Illya settles with his hands behind his back, eyes forward. It's Gaby who wears her unease with a little more transparency. Waverly narrows in on it a moment, a smile tugging the corner of his lips. 

WAVERLY 

Nor am I. Which is why we're just going to put this little episode past us, this time. I believe it would be the best option for all parties involved.

GABY 

( bewildered )

That's it? 

Napoleon eases himself out of his chair, hand immediately reaching for Gaby's arm to stop her before she gets too ahead of herself. 

NAPOLEON 

( hurriedly waving her along )

Thank you, sir. 

Gaby's mouth falls open in protest, but remains silent under Napoleon's direction. Illya tags along last, nodding slowly in parting to Waverly, his confusion akin to that of a puppy. 

WAVERLY 

( adjusts his glasses )

Yes, yes. You've all had quite a day haven't you. Do keep in mind that I might suggest you exercise a bit more faith in the future. We're all friends here. 

DEL FLORIA TAILOR 

The three file out of the Del Floria dressing room. Napoleon tucks a hand into his pants pocket as he turns to let Gaby through. 

NAPOLEON 

( whistles )

That went well. 

Gaby rubs her arms, still grinding at an unease that she throws over her shoulder. 

GABY 

We got lucky. 

He waits for Illya to pass, who avoids making eye contact as he navigates tables piled with bolts of fabric. 

NAPOLEON 

( musing )

It's a wonder you made it up the ranks in the KGB at all with your rebellious streak. How many times does that make it now? That you've disobeyed an order.

ILLYA 

( throwing a deadened glance back at him )

Do not come to expect it, Cowboy. This is the last time for you. 

Gaby's eyes roll, her hands blindly falling on the main door to brush open for Illya to pass through. 

GABY 

( annoyed )

Can we save the bickering until we get out of the office? 

ILLYA 

( innocently looks back )

Who is bickering? 

Napoleon never slows his gait. He looks on at both partners in a private moment of admonishment. It lasts just long enough before he has to step forward to catch the door and pass on through after them. 

NAPOLEON 

To that end, drinks at mine tonight? I'd say we've all earned it. 





	5. Complications

GABY'S HOTEL ROOM 

Gaby's foot taps impatiently in the center of her suite. Illya circles around her, lifting picture frames off the wall and tucking his fingers into any thinkable crevasse of her hotel suite. Her head turns to stalk his every movements. It's very clear, she is monumentally bored with the situation. 

GABY 

( impatiently )

Well? 

Illya's hand smacks flat against the frame of the television set, setting it back into place. His gaze meets Gaby's with an appeasing nod. 

ILLYA 

It looks safe. 

GABY 

( sighs )

I could have told you that. 

ILLYA 

( pulling himself onto his feet )

After last time, you cannot be too safe. 

GABY 

McGready is in custody, the case is closed. 

ILLYA 

( shrugs )

She could have vengeful accomplice. 

Her eyes roll, landing back onto him with an amount of slyness. 

GABY 

( teasing )

I think you just wanted an excuse to come up. 

Illya opens his mouth and closes it again, lips pressed together politely. He quickly makes a trajectory through the suite. 

ILLYA 

No. 

Gaby turns on heel, following him curiously as he nitpicks the table beside her bed She sinks into the edge of the wall, watching him actively avoid her gaze as his fingers skim the bottom of it. 

GABY 

Now you're looking for an excuse to stay. 

He returns upward, addressing her with a softening expression. 

ILLYA 

( gently )

If I needed excuse to stay, I would use it. 

She waits him out in a beat of silence, the disappointment begins to spoil her all-presuming cockiness. 

GABY 

But you're not going to. 

ILLYA 

( nods )

I need to go. 

His hand brushes her shoulder as he excuses himself past her. She's left staring at a wall, lips turning into a frown. Before he's made it to the door, she snaps around on her heel. Flipped from inherent sadness to a simmering frustration. 

GABY 

( terse )

Fine. Run away. 

Illya stops, shaking his head as she bounds after him. 

ILLYA 

( pressed )

This is not me running away. 

GABY 

( arms folding )

Isn't that what you always do when you get too frustrated? 

ILLYA 

( feeling some sort of frustration )

You misunderstand, I am not frustrated. 

GABY 

( arm drops to her side )

Then what do you call this? 

ILLYA 

( growing heated )

I-- 

( takes a breath )

Gaby, please. 

Her glare intensifies, boring down into him before she folds and makes a half turn away. A sigh hisses out of her teeth. 

GABY 

( breakingly frustrated )

I'm sick of playing this game with you. You act like you want something, but you never...take it. 

Illya frowns, not having expected to have left such an impact on her. Instinctively, his hand drifts out to touch her shoulder. She turns into it, looking back up at him in search for answers. 

ILLYA 

( earnest )

I...don't want to play games either. 

GABY 

Then what's holding you back? Is it Waverly? Is it the KGB? 

She steps closer to him, eyes searching his intently. He holds her at bay, thumb grazing the curve of her shoulder. 

ILLYA 

( hesitant )

There are...obligations I have. Things you do not deserve to get caught up in. Please try to understand. I do not want to make a promise to you that I cannot keep. 

She hovers, waiting for more explanation that doesn't seem to come. Her eyes roll elsewhere, pulling from his touch with a heavy breath. 

GABY 

( bitterly)

...Right. 

Illya watches her recover, the way her hand comes up to her shoulder to rub off the sensation of his touch. She's building back up to being fine, but he knows it's not so simple. 

ILLYA 

( attempting to sound more warm )

You make it very difficult, little chop shop. That is for sure. 

Gaby looks over her shoulder at him, softly resigning to what needs to be done and what he has yet to. 

GABY 

( head dipping in a nod )

You should go. 

His gaze falls down between them, contemplating the passing moment before nodding in response. 

ILLYA 

...Yes. Good night. 

As he turns to leave, Gaby lets herself watch him. The door CLICKS shut in his wake. A breath sinks out of her chest, long held in. She looks around her empty suite, wallpaper molded in canary yellow and deep aubergine. She stands there for what feels like a long time before snatching the coat draped over one of the lounging chairs and heads out. 

8TH FLOOR HALLWAY 

As Gaby lazes up to Napoleon's door, her hand outstretched to knock, the door snaps open. A RANDOM WOMAN flees the scene, wriggling a wedding band back onto her finger looking distraught. 

Within lies Napoleon's apartment, where he leans out from the kitchen area as he ties an apron behind his back. 

NAPOLEON 

( calls after her )

You know where to find me. 

Gaby steps aside for the woman to pass, who passes a look from her over her shoulder to Napoleon with an inherent disgust. 

RANDOM WOMAN 

Ugh! 

Gaby turns to watch her disappear into the elevator, eyebrows climbed up to her hairline. As she swivels back, she invites herself into Napoleon's apartment. 

NAPOLEON'S APARTMENT 

Closing the door neatly behind her, she sheds her coat to hang on a hook opposite of the door. Napoleon has disappeared back into the kitchen, she leaves him in no rush to entertain. 

GABY 

( calling out to him )

Am I early? 

As she wanders inward, she finds him compiling ingredients onto a counter. 

NAPOLEON 

No, sorry, I got caught up. Are you hungry? I was in the mood for colcannon. 

Briefly he turns to spare her a glance over his shoulder, his expression tics with what could be a smile. Gaby's head tilts to assess the compilation of potatoes and cabbage rolling around his bare counter. 

GABY 

( unimpressed )

What's that? Fancy potatoes with a side of potatoes? 

NAPOLEON 

Fancy may be pushing it, but the rest is more or less accurate. Help yourself to a drink. 

He nods to his left, Gaby follows his direction to a bar set against the wall. Her attention grazes the paintings that hang around his living room, the chic sofa and table set. A small smile rests on her lips as she fixes herself a gin and tonic. 

GABY 

( musingly )

Funny, first you serve me fancy food under a shitty roof and now potatoes under a chic one. 

NAPOLEON 

( dutifully chopping away at potatoes to drop into a pot of water )

Well, I have to keep you on your toes. 

When she reappears in the kitchen to drop a glass of brandy for him to tend to. He glances at her out of his peripheral while she wanders over to invade his record collection. 

NAPOLEON 

Have you heard from Waverly regarding our next assignment? 

Gaby hums gravely, lifting a signed Doris Day out of the mix. She returns it in favor for The Diamonds. 

GABY 

( setting up the record player )

Last I heard, he's under a bit of fire for letting us off with a slap on the wrist. He suggested we lay low for a couple days until he finds something. 

NAPOLEON 

( shakes his head )

Incredible. I'm itching to work and he tells me to do nothing. I guess we'll have to make our own entertainment. 

As the music begins to creep in from the living room, Gaby sinks her elbows onto the back of a dining chair while Napoleon chops away. She teases at the drink in her hand while she watches him cook. 

GABY 

That hasn't been a problem before. It'll be nice to see the city when I'm not trying to evade gunfire and trains. 

NAPOLEON 

( tilts his head to one side respectively )

It adds color. I did promise to take you to the MoMA.

GABY 

( raises one eyebrow )

Maybe you could teach me some more of your tricks. 

NAPOLEON 

( passes her a considering look )

If you're planning a heist, we'd better go to the Met instead. The security is a breeze and I have an inside man. 

She freezes, looking caught up in something she quite not expected to be in. 

GABY 

Seems like a big step if you ask me.

NAPOLEON 

( hums )

The Smithsonian just acquired a Cézanne on loan. That would put you in Oliver Goldsmiths for years. 

GABY 

( snorts )

I'm not stealing a painting. 

Napoleon drops a hand full of shredded cabbage into a second pot, he glances towards her in blase gesture. High profile larceny is a walk in the park for him. 

NAPOLEON 

You're right, a priceless medieval manuscript would be much easier to smuggle for a novice. What do you think, Les Belles Heures du Duc de Berry? It's only sacrilegious if you forgo your Hail Marys. 

GABY 

( nagging )

We're supposed to be taking things easy. 

NAPOLEON 

( light in a matter of fact )

Easy is only fun when they're naked. 

Although his back is turned to her, she looks away almost embarrassingly. Her eyes roll at the wall, letting the sound of the running tap drown out her unexpected beat of silence. 

GABY 

( pushes herself off her perch )

How long are they going to take? 

Napoleon finishes drying off his hands before taking the neat brandy off the table. He turns to raise it to her in a tip of cheers before taking a drink. 

NAPOLEON 

( refreshed )

That is inversely proportional to how long you're willing to wait. 

Gaby's lips purse as she looks around his apartment. He remains unmoved, waiting for her to return her attention to him. One shoulder of her rolls a shrug. 

GABY 

So we forget about them. Are you too stiff to dance? 

His eyebrows flinch upward in a slight surprise. He moves fluidly in clear defiance of her accusation, setting down the glass before her to strip off his apron to abandon at the chair. He picks his glass up again to wander over to the record player and turn the volume up. 

NAPOLEON 

( raising his voice over the music )

I've never felt better. 

Gaby turns to watch him set up, abandoning her glass at the table to join him. 

GABY 

( cheekily )

A wise man's last words. 

Napoleon waits for her, raising a hand to beckon hers into it. 

NAPOLEON 

Said the ballerina, setting him up for failure. 

Her eyes roll, slipping a hand into his. 

GABY 

( dry )

I'm not feeling exactly in top shape either, but I suppose I can go easy on you. 

NAPOLEON 

( sly )

You already know my thoughts on easy. 

A scoff catches her throat, eyes rolling as he takes her other hand in preparation. 

GABY 

Put a sock in it and dance, Cowboy. 

The beat picks up as Napoleon draws back, using the momentum to pull her along with him. She swings with him, falling into a step before he brushes her back a step with their arms splayed out on either side. After gaining a rhythm, he steps out to one side. Their tethered arms snap taut before he draws her back in into a loose twirl. She dips under him and steps around to gather his hand again, falling back into the beat. Their steps pounce around the large rug lining the floor, laughter in their eyes. 

NAPOLEON 

( in a mid-atlantic accent )

The broad's got moves. 

The music draws into a rhythmic solo. Gaby draws away from him, hips swaying to the beat. 

GABY 

( breathless)

Wait for it. Or can't you? 

His jaw steels stubbornly in the face of a challenge. Instead of an answer, he merely delivers a mocking little eyebrow raise, his hands hithering her to come forward. Gaby flips a stray piece of hair out of her face with a puff of air. Quickly she charges into his arms, and he swings her up above his head with her legs drawn around his waist. Once she swings down, a pained noise groans from deep within him. 

He stumbles back with effort. Gaby yelps as they both tumble roughly to the floor. Napoleon rolls off of her onto an elbow so that he can writhe quietly in pain. Gaby similarly groans, hand crossing her middle to hold her ribs. 

After a moment of their mutual suffering, Gaby breaks out into a pained giggle. 

GABY 

( peering over at him )

Still feeling better? 

NAPOLEON 

( manages to shoot her a glare, it quickly dissolves with a short laugh )

I'm glad you're amused. 

( his eyebrow hitches upward as he looks down at himself, still catching his breath )

That's never happened to me before. 

GABY 

( slowly eases herself up onto her hands )

I think you'll make it. 

Napoleon is slow to follow suit. He raises high enough to ease the volume down and grab his drink before inevitably his battered ribs drag him back down to the floor level. 

NAPOLEON 

( wheezes )

Never been better. 

GABY

Maybe we should just stick to drinking. 

NAPOLEON 

( assessing his brandy before taking a sip )

Maybe you're right. 

Leaning on one hand, she reaches over to grab the drink out of his hand just after he's pulled it away from his mouth. 

NAPOLEON

( flatly )

Help yourself. 

GABY 

( smiles like the brat she is as she lifts the cup to her lips)

Than--- 

Napoleon jostles her elbow upward just in time to spill the entire glass of brandy down Gaby's dress. Gaby writhes to a halt in a full bodied gasp. Once the shock wears off, she shoots him a glare. 

GABY 

( flippant )

Very funny. You know this dress probably cost more than your rent. 

NAPOLEON 

( casually )

You're the one that wanted to learn tips and tricks. There's one for you. When you get caught stealing 

( he reaches over to grab the glass from her hand before she crushes it )

bad things will happen. 

He chases the glass as she leans to hold it away from him, glaring a round of daggers into his face, which he avoids. Once he's successfully taken the glass from her hand, he withdraws to find her other hand has enclosed around his tie. He stops, the tie pulled taut between them. 

GABY 

( catty )

What about letting your guard down? 

Napoleon's gaze flickers to Gaby's lips before meeting her gaze. He doesn't move, as if held by gunpoint, looking curiously on. 

NAPOELON 

Generally the same outcome. 

Gaby holds his gaze, unmoving from their delicate position. She blinks first, searching his face quickly before her hand thaws to reel him in. Napoleon resists at first, expression trying to determine her motives. Whatever qualms he has falls to the wayside, meeting her lips with his. Blindly he abandons the glass somewhere along the rug, setting his hand down along side of it as Gaby draws them both down to the floor. 

Gaby's hand slides along his jaw, which he follows to lean into. His hand finds hers to pry away and pin over the top of her head. He breaks for air, but she stubbornly reaches out to turn his chin back down to her lips. A muffle of surprise burns in his throat, breath hissing inward as their kiss deepens.

His hand trails up her leg, drawing it flush against his waist as he breaks away to draw a trail of kisses from her chin to her throat. 

NAPOLEON

( breathless between kisses )

Bed? Here? Table? ...Couch? 

Gaby's chin tilts upward, allowing him access to roam. After a beat, her eyes flutter upward to the upside down door in her vision sitting across the room. She blinks, coming to a moment of clarity that she swallows back. 

GABY 

( sounding caught off guard)

Here. 

On cue to her hesitance, Napoleon draws back to take her lips again in a long drawn kiss before drawing back from her with a slightly regretful look in his eye. 

NAPOLEON 

Are you sure? 

Gaby's breaths are still recovering from feeling ragged, she stares back at him absent of an answer. Gears are turning, but she doesn't have a proper response. At last her eyes close. 

GABY 

( sighs )

_Scheisse_

Napoleon seems to let out a small sigh, pulling himself off of her the rest of the way. He immediately begins to clean up, gathering the glass off the floor and pulling himself to his feet to drop it off into the kitchen. Gaby lies on the rug, one knee still perched up. She rubs her head tenderly before sitting up. 

GABY

( contemplated )

This just got...complicated. 

He worries her a look over his shoulder. 

NAPOLEON 

It doesn't have to be. 

Tenderly, Gaby rubs her hand across her stomach. She looks up at him across the room as he waits for her answer. 

GABY 

( lightly )

That's not up to you. 

NAPOLEON 

( shrugs as he looks into the empty glass. casually )

No, I suppose not. 

He disappears into the kitchen, looking far less bothered than his partner still on the floor. Meanwhile, Gaby stares absently as she sorts her thoughts. 

GABY 

That was a bad idea to begin with. 

NAPOLEON 

( from the kitchen in a matter of fact tone )

Sometimes bad ideas have surprisingly rewarding outcomes. 

Gaby's lips press with annoyance. She eases herself onto her feet looking none too pleased with the current outcome. She pats down her brandy stained dress, looking up to be met with a towel held in Napoleon's outstretched hand. 

NAPOLEON 

Normally women have the decency to regret their decisions only after they've left.

GABY 

( sighs )

That's not it, I don-- 

She's interrupted by a KNOCK at the door. Gaby swipes the towel out of Napoleon's hand as he parts from her to answer the door. It opens to reveal Illya, dressed in a smart evening turtleneck with his hair combed fine. 

NAPOLEON 

( chipper )

Speak of the devil, Peril I was beginning to think you were a no show. 

ILLYA 

( contrary )

How can I be late if you did not specify a time? 

NAPOLEON 

( steps aside to let him through )

I didn't mean it like that, come in. 

Illya enters to find Gaby patting herself down with a towel. She throws him a few too many glances. 

GABY 

I'm surprised he came at all. 

Before Illya can comment on her state of mess, Napoleon leans into his line of sight with a curious glance. 

NAPOLEON 

It's not you flipping cars into the East River is it? 

Illya glares at him, his lips pop into a smile as he passes into the kitchen to continue to prepare dinner. 

ILLYA 

No, but seeing by the quality of American made bridges, I have no doubt such a thing could happen on its own. 

NAPOLEON 

( quickly mashing in potatoes and a splash of cream )

Ah, where would we be without the great Russian architect. Dinner's on in five. 

ILLYA 

( sniffs the air as he pulls a chair out to sit )

Cabbage and potatoes, very adventurous. 

Gaby wanders to take a seat on the other side of the table, eyeing Illya warily. Fortunately, he's too focused on the bustling American who plates up a bowl of cabbage infused mashed potatoes into the middle of the table. 

NAPOLEON 

( he explains, waving his fork in a circle over the platter )

It's Irish. I think your palate will agree with it. 

ILLYA 

( blandly )

Irish. 

NAPOLEON 

( shrugs )

I felt inspired. 

After serving a few more dishes warming in the oven, Napoleon takes a seat with the both of them. 

GABY 

( raises an eyebrow )

A little tongue in cheek, even for you. 

Napoleon meets her look, only in such a way to prelude a bout of flippancy. 

NAPOLEON 

( turning to illya )

So Gaby wants to see the sights. You should take her tomorrow. Apparently we will have some free time. 

Gaby's fork SCRAPES across her plate, looking over at Napoleon like he's just suggested she go to prison. 

GABY 

( slightly perturbed, she shakes her head )

You don't have to take me anywhere. 

NAPOLEON 

Nonsense. I think we should be making the best out our time out. Wouldn't you say, Peril? 

Illya swallows, looking up at the both of them to nod his approval. 

ILLYA 

We have time, we go wherever you wish. 

Napoleon claps his hands together, as if closing a deal. 

NAPOLEON 

( rubs his hands )

That settles it. Maybe we can even take a little trip down south. Miami maybe.

ILLYA 

A little ambitious. 

NAPOLEON 

( looking back to gaby )

And rightly so. What do you say? 

It takes a little nudge to stir Gaby again from her thought. She looks up at the both of them, nearly glaring Napoleon down. Meanwhile, Illya cleans his plate like a hungry dog. 

GABY 

( pressed )

Oh--I think it'd be grand. 

NAPOLEON 

( grins )

Two against one, Peril. How do you like those odds? 

ILLYA 

( looks up from his empty plate, chastising )

Waverly said to take things easy. 

Napoleon's grin turns smug, Gaby lifting her gaze to him as she stabs her fork in her hardly touched potatoes. As if she's silently willing him to stop talking. 

NAPOLEON 

Well, I happen to have a strict policy on 'easy' and--- 

Before he can finish, Gaby shoves a fork full into his mouth. He nearly sputters in surprise but makes a bumpy recovery underneath his napkin. 

GABY 

( pettily )

No one cares. 

Illya looks on, rather smug as Napoleon continues to cough into his napkin as a shred of cabbage makes its way down his windpipe. Gaby, proudly sits back and continues to eat her meal. 

ILLYA 

( slightly amused. )

Maybe you should be careful with that big mouth of yours. Wouldn't want to choke. 

NAPOLEON 

( hoarse, tapping his chest with his first )

Can't say I haven't gotten that before.

Illya's face scrunches in a brief confusion. 

GABY 

( rolls her eyes )

Honestly... 

NAPOLEON 

( innocently )

He said it. 

ILLYA 

( narrows his eyes at napoleon, shakes his head )

I do not understand what charms you to women. 

Napoleon smiles, leaning back in his chair like the cat with all the sweet cream. 

NAPOLEON 

Are you saying you don't find me charming? 

GABY 

( lifting her drink )

Insufferable. 

ILLYA 

( stabbing a sliver of meat )

Over-compensating.

Gaby looks across the table to Illya, lifting her drink in commemoration of their brief unity against Napoleon's inflated ego. 

GABY 

Cheers to that. 

She downs the rest of her drink in one go. 

NAPOLEON 

( uneasily )

I'm feeling a little ganged up here. 

ILLYA 

( sets his fork down )

Your potatoes....adequate. 

NAPOLEON 

( touches a hand to his own chest )

Peril, that's possibly the sweetest thing you've ever told me. 

ILLYA 

( dryly )

It's possibly the only bearable thing of yours in this gaudy apartment. 

Napoleon sits forward looking as if Illya just spat on him and his mother. 

NAPOLEON 

( appalled )

_Gaudy?_

Gaby lifts from her chair, making an exit before either of them break their staring contest. 

GABY 

So, tomorrow then? 

By the time either of them turn their attentions to her, she's already got an arm through her coat sleeve. 

NAPOLEON 

Leaving so soon?

GABY 

( huffs )

I get enough of this when I'm getting paid. 

Napoleon frowns. Illya nods, still slightly dazed by her sheer will to teleport out the door at a moment's notice. 

ILLYA 

Goodnight. 

GABY 

( nods awkwardly, making her exit )

Goodnight. 

Illya's chair creaks as he slowly untwists himself. Napoleon tips his own glass to see what's left inside. A silence grows between them, thick and awkward. Illya clears his throat. 

NAPOLEON 

( slowly )

So............parcheesi? 




**Author's Note:**

> 1- Gaby's sausage comment is a poor translation from an old German saying about grumpy people. Germans and their sausage related phrases~  
> 2 - вечером translates to 'evening' and also stands for 'v' in Solo's coded message of 'irish gov'  
> \-----------------------  
> I do love some slow burn trio development, at least there is a little bit of payoff in this mission fic.
> 
> One bonus chapter coming up is about to turn things on its head. Also what is Illya up to in New York?? Super mysterious.
> 
> \-----------------------  
> This is a part of a series transcribed from a private MFU roleplay. The screenwriting format has been softened so that it is more digestible to read without all that technical mumbo jumbo.
> 
> Thank you for the support so far and don't forget to bookmark this series for updates!


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